


kimihia

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Online Dating, and as usual im an idiot and didn't stick to that plan did i!!, this was supposed to be SHORT and NOT 22k WORDS, tinder au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 12:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17509031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: Laurent frowned and drummed his fingers against his laptop as he considered what to say. In theory, nothing was stopping him from going to Greece. Nothing was stopping him from maybe running into someone he met over Tinder. The only thing standing in his way was his own apprehension and mistrust about the whole situation.





	kimihia

**Author's Note:**

> soOoOoOo i started writing this uh, almost seven months ago. and it's finally done. yay! big shout out to my slack buddies, even tho most of them still haven't read capri (c'mon guys) and to everyone that's been putting up with me yelling about this at them. (sorry, kodie!)
> 
> uh, and being my dumbass self, i made the title something mildly unrelated to the actual thing. kimihia is a māori word meaning to seek or search for something ~~(im pakeha correct me if im wrong but i Trust dictionaries)~~ , so like. tangentially related, i guess. the never ending quest for love i seem to have laurent on. oops. (if ur interested, i was listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dCbkCJGVUqw) while coming up with a title. there _is_ a fully english version but like, multiculturalism, lads. māori is beautiful.)

Laurent did not like Tinder. He didn’t like the superficial manner with which he and everyone else were expected to swipe through and decide if someone was worth talking to based on their image and limited biography. He didn’t like the sort of people he seemed to be attracting (so, _so_ many closeted guys who looked like they owned fedoras). He especially didn’t like how much time he seemed to be dedicating to swiping left on every single option that appeared.

He only went on Tinder, however, when he was feeling alone or desperate. But, uh, that was apparently all the fucking time.

It was a night like this, almost one in the morning, sitting in bed surrounded by textbooks and the sound of his neighbours fucking enthusiastically against the wall beside his head, that he found Damen.

He had been on a rampage, swiping left and not even bothering to pause and read anything about the poor guys he was so easily dismissing, when he almost swiped directly past him.

Initially, it wasn’t Damen himself that gave Laurent pause – it was the scene behind him. The bright blue waters, blond cliffs, and horizon stretching off to one side of the photo was what pulled Laurent in. He had an entire Pinterest board dedicated to pictures like that, and as Laurent slowly pulled the profile back to the centre of his screen, he took in the person within the photo.

Laurent had to take a breath.

He was shirtless and _muscled_ as he leaned against the railing of a boat, skin tanned with dark hair pulled up into a bun just visible, and head thrown back in laughter.

_Damen, 24._

‘Well, Damen, aged twenty-four,’ Laurent muttered, tapping his picture. ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’

 

_Hi! If you’re reading this, that means you like me already, so why not make it official? ;) Likes include food, travel, and dogs. Dislikes include moths, pickle juice, and missed opportunities. Reviews:_

_“Total dick” – brother_  
“An angel who needs to hurry up and give me grandchildren” – mother  
“My pride and joy” – father  
“Slut with a heart of gold” – best friend  
“Absolutely huge” – ex

Laurent huffed and tapped through his pictures. There were a couple of typical group photos, and a few more model-worthy shots, followed by a picture of him asleep in the most uncomfortable looking position of upside down and half slithered to the floor. He scrolled down to his Instagram and Spotify sections, noting a total mixed basket of music – from Elvis Presley, to Ariana Grande, to Metallica. His Instagram revealed more selfies and dramatic landscapes like his main photo, and Laurent sighed a little wistfully.

He tapped the little green heart and expected absolutely nothing. His expectation was met, as no match popped up, and he left the app. Laurent had things to do, and now was not the time to get distracted by cute boys that didn’t like him back.

An hour later, right as Laurent was preparing to go to sleep after deciding study was done for the night, his phone lit up on the bed beside him.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw it was a match notification, and he was almost embarrassed to admit how he swore when he opened the app to see _Damen_ sitting in his scarce row of matches.

‘Now is not the time,’ he muttered, once more leaving the app and climbing into bed to sleep. ‘This is not a problem for now.’

***

_Damen sent you a message._

Laurent blinked as his brain processed what that meant. He had been awake for only a few minutes, and decided to check his emails as he woke up a little more to spare himself the embarrassment of a message sent while barely half-conscious. Nothing interesting in there, just a bunch of things from sites he should really unsubscribe from, and so with nothing else to distract him, he opened Tinder to see what Damen had said.

 

_(02:07) Hi, my name is Damen, what’s your favorite dinner food?_

Laurent blinked. He was pretty sure that was similar to something Auguste had said to him at some point. This had to be… a thing. Surely. He dialled Auguste’s number.

‘Hey!’ Auguste greeted, far too cheerful and awake for this time of the day. ‘What’s the occasion?’

‘Hi, my name is Damen, what’s your favourite dinner food?’ Laurent muttered.

Auguste was quiet for a moment. It seemed like he was trying to figure out an appropriate response. Eventually, he settled on, ‘Uh, what?’

‘Is that a joke I don’t get?’

‘It’s a Vine,’ Auguste said, sounding confused, then changing his voice. ‘Hi, my name is Chelsea, what’s your favourite dinner food?’

‘Auguste, a boy sent me that on Tinder and I don’t know how to respond.’ Laurent had to listen to Auguste burst into laughter, and snort for a good while as he calmed himself. ‘Hilarious, yes. Advice?’

‘Oh, Laurent, you’re precious,’ Auguste sighed in that way people do when they’re wiping away tears of laughter, then cleared his throat. ‘I guess you have two options. You could tell him, or you could respond with another meme.’

‘Recommendation?’

‘How many vines are you familiar with?’

‘Grapes and wisteria.’

‘You’ve got jokes, huh? Better off just playing dumb.’

‘As if I _could_ ,’ Laurent huffed, hanging up and going quickly to YouTube. He could bullshit this. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he sent a reply.

 

**(07:46) fr e sh  a voca do**

 

‘Perfect,’ he mumbled, locking his phone and rolling over, back to sleep.

***

Laurent was making dinner when he got the next message. He was elbow deep in a chicken’s ass and wasn’t about to stop what he was doing to reply, so he made a mental note to check it later, when Auguste walked in the door.

‘Laurent! Where you at?’ he called from the entryway.

‘Kitchen!’

Auguste popped his head into the kitchen and raised his eyebrows at the way Laurent was currently attached to the chicken. ‘Is now a bad time?’

‘Well, I’m making your dinner, so you tell me,’ Laurent grunted as he shoved his fist back in with some herbs and butter. ‘Did you bring desert?

Auguste held up a box of brownie mix and grinned. ‘Thought we could be adults and put some M&Ms in it?’

‘You know what?’ Laurent pulled his arm out again and snapped the gloves off his hands. ‘Sure. You can make them.’

‘Me? Why me?’

‘You brought it over, and also, I just _fisted a chicken_ for your dinner,’ Laurent said, throwing the gloves in the trash, and the chicken into the oven.

‘I think that’s fair,’ Auguste said a little distractedly, as he picked up Laurent’s phone from the bench. ‘Ooh, Damen sent you another message.’

Laurent snatched his phone from Auguste’s hand, as he went to try and hack his passcode. ‘Yes, I know. Thank you.’

‘Is he the Vine guy?’

‘Yes,’ Laurent said, opening up Tinder.

 

_(17:21) HAH nice one_

_(17:25) Really though? I would love to take you out for some fresh avocado._

‘How do I break it to him that I actually hate avocado?’ Laurent said, half to himself.

‘Did you pull that Del Taco vine on him?’ Auguste asked, peering over his shoulder.

‘I don’t know, did I?’

 

**(17:29) Sadly, I actually hate avocado.**

_(17:30) Thank God, me too._

‘Oh, well, problem solved,’ Auguste said. ‘Where are your mixing bowls?’

‘Under the sink.’

‘Neat,’ Auguste said, going to rummage around in the cupboards and leaving Laurent to his conversation. ‘Hey, how are we going to cook these at the same time as the chicken?’

Laurent looked up from his phone and frowned. ‘The second oven?’

‘Why do you have two ovens?’

‘I don’t know, I didn’t put it there,’ Laurent said distractedly, as another message came through.

 

_(17:32) So what attracted you to my profile?_

 

‘Is it bad manners to ask someone why you swiped right on them?’ Laurent asked.

‘Maybe? Does it sound like he’s fishing for compliments?’

‘I can’t tell. Should I be honest?’

‘Are you trying to make me workshop your Tinder conversation right now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh Jesus.’

‘I’ll just ask him.’

 

**(17:33) Do you want me to be honest?**

_(17:33) I won’t be able to tell if you’re lying, so you might as well._

Laurent bit his lip. Damen had a point. Did he need to follow through, though?

 

**(17:34) The background.**

_(17:34) The background?_

_(17:34) Of the main photo?_

**(17:35) Yeah**

**(17:35) Greece?**

_(17:36) Yeah!_

‘What did you say?’ Auguste asked, pulling the milk from Laurent’s fridge. ‘You look very pleased with yourself over there.’

‘His photo was taken in Greece. I called it.’

‘Oh, and you _do_ love being told you’re right.’

‘Of course.’

 

_(17:36) You ever been?_

**(17:36) Not yet. Always wanted to.**

_(17:36) I could be your tour guide ;)_

**(17:37) Would I have to pay you?**

_(17:37) Not with cash ;)_

**(17:38) …**

_(17:38) Too forward?_

_(17:39) Sorry :(_

_(17:40) But fr, I go every year so I can totally take you around!_

‘He just offered to show me around Greece?’ Laurent said, a little confused.

‘That’s generous of him.’

‘What should I say? Is he joking?’

‘You tell me, lil bro.’

 

**(17:41) Seriously?**

_(17:42) Yeah!_

**(17:42) Why would you do that for a complete stranger?**

_(17:42) Call it national pride. My rents are Greek._

_(17:43) They’d say it was my civic duty ¯\\_(_ _ツ_ _)_/¯_

_(17:43) They like to tell us how we’re descended from some ancient rulers_

**(17:43) Oh?**

_(17:44) idk I’m not great with genealogy_

_(17:44) Besides, hospitality is a Big Thing so they’d be horrified if I didn’t offer lol_

**(17:45) Are you saying you’d take me around a country I’ve never been to in order to please your parents?**

**(17:45) That’s a lot of pressure for a first date.**

_(17:46) My parents won’t be joining us lol_

**(17:47) That’s a relief.**

**(17:47) No offence.**

 

‘You look like you’re having fun over there,’ Auguste said, snapping Laurent back to attention. ‘How do I work this oven?’

‘By twisting the dials, I assume.’

‘You assume?’

‘Yes,’ Laurent said, getting up to help Auguste with the oven, purely because he didn’t want his apartment to explode today. ‘You made those brownies quite quickly.’

‘Uh, not really, you’ve just been a bit absorbed over there, talking to your new _man_.’

‘He’s not my man,’ Laurent protested, flicking Auguste with a hand towel as he slid the brownie tray into the oven.

‘Would you object to it?’ Auguste asked, shutting the door and fiddling with the timer, before giving up and setting one on his phone instead.

‘Have you seen his photo?’

‘No, are you going to show me?’

Laurent narrowed his eyes as he slid his phone out and opened Tinder again, going to Damen’s profile, and holding it up for Auguste to see.

‘Oof,’ Auguste said, scrolling through. ‘That’s a hunk of dude.’

‘Thank you for that.’

‘That’s a hunk of dude who you can just _tell_ would treat you right,’ Auguste continued. ‘Like, _right_ right. Gently and persistently. And well. Very well.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And you matched?’

‘Yes.’

‘Wow,’ Auguste said, going through Damen’s Instagram now. ‘That’s a very nice looking man, Laur- _puppies!_ ’

‘What?’

‘Oh, I _trust_ a guy covered in puppies like that,’ Auguste said seriously. ‘Animals always know. They know he’d treat you right. All night long.’

‘Auguste.’

‘Laurent, I’d date this man.’

‘Well, too bad.’

‘He sent you a message! Oh my God, Laurent, go to Greece. Fuck off and fuck him.’

‘I’m glad to have your support.’

 

_(17:54) None taken_

_(17:54) But I’m sure they can accompany if you want a chaperone lol_

**(17:55) That’s very thoughtful.**

**(17:55) I’m sure my brother would also.**

_(17:56) Oh he would?_

**(17:57) Yes.**

**(17:57) Too bad I don’t like sharing.**

 

‘Are you _flirting_ with my man, Damen?’ Auguste gasped theatrically, clutching the pearls he wasn’t wearing. ‘ _Laurent_ , the betrayal.’

‘I found him, first in, first served, etcetera.’

‘You’re terrible.’

‘You’re straight.’

Auguste’s jaw dropped. ‘How dare you play me like that? Only mostly.’

Laurent grinned. ‘Nothing is even going to come of this, so don’t worry. Maybe in another life you’d have Damen.’

‘And I am _jealous_ of that me.’

 

 _(17:58) Neither do I ¯\\_(_ _ツ_ _)_/¯_

**(17:59) So hypothetically, when are you free to show me around?**

_(18:00) Mid-June._

_(18:00) That’s when I’ll be there._

**(18:01) Guaranteed?**

_(18:01) Guaranteed._

_(18:01) Let me know if you’ll be around :)_

**(18:02) I may do that.**

 

‘Did you just agree to go to Greece with this dude?’ Auguste asked from over Laurent’s shoulder.

‘No, I did not do that. I said _may_ do that.’

‘You could.’

‘I could,’ Laurent agreed. ‘But I don’t think his offer was serious.’

‘I don’t know,’ Auguste said thoughtfully. ‘Some people are just genuinely nice and like that.’

‘Sounds fake,’ Laurent said sceptically. ‘But okay.’

***

Later that night, after Auguste had gone home, and dinner and brownies had been demolished, Laurent picked up his phone and checked for any messages from Damen. Nothing had come through, but he knew sometimes Tinder was a tricky little app and wouldn’t notify him of things.

Nope. Definitely nothing. Laurent decided to ignore his disappointment and do a little more study. This was his final year of school, and he was not going to spend it being distracted and wasting time hoping a boy had messaged him.

He buried himself in his work, pulling up the article database and searching and scrolling for what felt like years. Laurent surfaced for air after a couple of hours for a break to make some coffee and have a snack. It was close to midnight, but as Auguste would say – it was time for dark lunch.

It was closer to two when his phone lit up with a message. He usually got alerts from persistent apps around this time, and was almost surprised to see _Damen sent you a message_ there instead.

 

_(01:59) Sorry! Forgotten work stuff popped up :(_

_(02:00) But I really hope you do come! I know all the good spots :)_

**(02:00) I hope you don’t expect me to just go to Greece with someone I don’t know.**

_(02:00) Then I’ll just have to woo you and by the time we get there, you’ll be in love with me B)_

**(02:01) Are you serious?**

_(02:01) Completely!_

 

Laurent frowned and drummed his fingers against his laptop as he considered what to say. In theory, nothing was stopping him from going to Greece. Nothing was stopping him from maybe running into someone he met over Tinder. The only thing standing in his way was his own apprehension and mistrust about the whole situation.

 

**(02:05) Hypothetically, how would that work?**

**(02:05) We both just show up in Greece and spend a week together?**

_(02:06) Sure! We could meet there and not before lol_

_(02:06) That way we can say we met in Greece._

**(02:07) That’s crazy.**

**(02:07) A flight across the world to meet someone who lives within driving distance.**

**(02:07) Who I’ve never met and who could in fact be a murderer.**

_(02:08) I promise I’m not a murderer._

_(02:08) And I’m not just going to stop talking to you so it’s like meeting a stranger._

_(02:08) Have you got Snapchat? I’ll add you and verify I’m an actual person_

_(02:09) Also I’ll send you selfies B)_

**(02:10) If you send me pictures of your dick I’m blocking you.**

_(02:11) I would never!_

**(02:11) Good.**

**(02:11) ladevere7**

 

Laurent hit send before he could think about it too much, holding his breath while he waited for a response or any kind of notification. It was maybe one minute before he got a Snapchat alert, but in that time, he thought maybe Damen might have changed his mind about everything. Instead, _damianosvsls added you as a friend_ popped up, immediately followed by a notification of a new snap from _damianosvsls_.

Laurent opened it cautiously, unsure what to expect.

It was a selfie. Messy hair in a high bun took up most of the frame, lit by the glow of a laptop. Laurent frowned and tapped the screen, leading to another selfie.

This one was much better and clearly intentional. The hair was still in frame, as was a gorgeous, olive skinned guy, half face-palming in the glow of a laptop. _Sorry_ , the caption said, _it’s late and I totally mixed the send and cancel things._

Another tap, and another selfie. Same guy, now throwing a peace sign and smiling goofily. Another caption – _I promise I’m real and not out here to steal your meat suit._

Laurent laughed to himself, turning his camera on himself. He looked a bit of a mess, but it was getting to that point where it was sort of inevitable. He did his best to cover it by finding the most flattering angle he could (there wasn’t one, in all honesty) and leaning his head in his hand to try and seem casual and not at all freaking out that he hadn’t been catfished. Which he had thought was a definite possibility.

 _Good to know_ , he added as a caption, _because I’m not really looking to be possessed right now._

It was a minute or so before he received a reply, despite that Damen had opened his snapchat almost immediately. He was about to send a follow up, when Damen’s reply came through.

He was smiling wide, but had his eyes covered by a large hand. _Sorry, it took me a moment to breathe again._

Laurent tapped and went back to the main menu. There was a little blue square next to Damen’s name on the screen, and Laurent tapped that too, getting sent to the chat.

> **DAMIANOSVSLS**  
>  _Is it too bold of me to say you’re more beautiful than I first thought?_
> 
> **LADEVERE7**  
>  _…a little._
> 
> **DAMIANOSVSLS**  
>  _Sorry :s_
> 
> **LADEVERE7**  
>  _It’s okay, I’m just not used to it._
> 
> **DAMIANOSVSLS**  
>  _It’s now my mission to change that  
>  if that’s okay?_
> 
> **LADEVERE7**  
>  _…you can try ¯\\_(_ _ツ_ _)_/¯_

 

***

‘You can’t.’

‘Yes, I can.’

‘Damianos,’ Nik said patiently, in his calmest voice. ‘You cannot – _cannot_ – invite random people halfway across the world.’

‘Yes,’ Damen repeated. ‘I can.’

‘Damianos. No.’

‘Nikandros. Yes.’

Nik heaved a sigh and leaned forward to rest his head on the table between them. ‘Why, Damen? Why are you like this?’

‘Excuse me, like what?’

‘Impulsive. Reckless. Throwing caution to the wind with gay abandon.’ Nik rolled his head to the side to look up at him. ‘You invited some dude off Tinder to crash Greece.’

‘It’s an entire country. We don’t _own_ it, Nik,’ Damen said, poking him in the face with a pen. ‘And besides, he’s ridiculously good looking and I –’

‘Want to tap that?’

‘That is beside the point,’ Damen frowned. ‘He wants to go to Greece, I am familiar with Greece. Who says I can’t show him around without banging him?’

‘Uh, you, probably.’ Nik rolled his face back to the table and spoke, his voice muffled against the wood. ‘And then I’ll be there cleaning up the pieces and bringing you ice cream.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ll break up horribly and then every place you took him to, you’ll have to avoid because of the “memories” and also, you always eat ice cream when you’re sad.’

‘Okay, that’s a lie,’ Damen said, poking him with the pen again, this time on the crown of his head. It probably wasn’t very effective. ‘Name one time I did that.’

‘When you broke up with Jokaste, you ate like five cartons in two days.’

‘Oh,’ Damen sighed. ‘Yeah, I forgot about that.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Clearly.’

‘So, cancel your plans and we’ll go have a great time without any boy drama or excessive ice cream, okay?’

‘Hmm,’ Damen hummed thoughtfully. ‘No.’

Nik groaned, gently hitting his head once on the table. ‘I hate you.’

‘You haven’t even seen this dude, Nik,’ Damen said, whipping his phone from his pocket and going directly to Tinder. He opened up Laurent’s profile and shoved it in front of Nik. ‘Look at him!’

Nik lifted his head and tapped through the limited photos and other info there. ‘You know who this is, right?’

Damen’s eyebrows shot up, as he watched Nik read Laurent’s Spotify section with a critical eye. ‘No, who? Do you know him?’

‘It’s Jokaste. He’s like, the male version of Jokaste, Damen.’

‘He is _not_.’

‘He might be,’ Nik said, looking up from the phone to Damen. ‘At the very least, you have a type.’

‘You are _so_ mean to me,’ Damen said. ‘But you might be right. Is that so wrong?’

‘Well, no. Just make sure you’re not into him because he’s a Jokaste, okay?’

Damen rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, I know. But still – thoughts?’

‘Yeah, I mean, he’s… sent you a Snapchat?’

‘What?’ Damen squeaked, reaching for his phone before Nik could get there first. ‘Nik, come on, you can’t open it!’

‘Why?’ Nik asked, dancing away from the table with Damen’s phone in his grasp. ‘Are you already at the stage of sending dick pics? This definitely won’t last to Greece, dude.’

‘No, we’re not sending dick pics, but I don’t think it’s for you!’

‘I don’t think it’s for you either?’ Nik said in confusion, as he opened the snapchat of Laurent, smiling sarcastically and flipping the bird. He tapped and was faced with another selfie, this time Laurent looking utterly horrified and the caption _That was not for you! I’m so sorry!_

Nik jumped onto the couch as Damen came closer, and snapped a selfie of himself with Damen looking forlorn in the background. ‘What should I say? I know. _Who_ ,’ he wrote, narrating as he went, ‘ _are you cheating on my best bro with?_ ’

‘Oh my God, Nik, no,’ Damen groaned.

‘“That was for my brother,”’ Nik read, as Laurent typed furiously in the chat screen. ‘“You’re not Damen, but please tell him that was for my brother, who is being a pain in the ass right now. Tell Damen I say hi” and then there’s a bunch of kisses.’

‘Really?’

‘No.’

‘I hate you.’

‘You’ve mentioned,’ Nik said happily. ‘What should I reply?’

‘Tell him Damen says hi and hopes you’re having a nice day. Also, if he needs me to kick his brother’s ass for any reason, I’m down, because I can’t kick _your_ ass, or you’ll be sad and move out.’ Damen sat on the couch next to Nik’s feet and looked up at him. ‘If you write anything else, I’ll kick your ass anyway.’

‘Let’s take a chill pill,’ Nik said, patting Damen’s head as he sat on the back of the couch. ‘You matched with this dude like a day ago.’

‘And if anything ever happened to him, I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.’

‘God, you’re such a dramatic bitch,’ Nik muttered. ‘And yes, I got it, before you even ask me.’

‘I’d be embarrassed of you if you hadn’t,’ Damen said, slapping him on the shin and getting up. ‘Phone. We’re studying.’

‘No, _I’m_ studying. You’re supposed to be working, but you don’t even have your laptop here.’

‘Technically, I can set my own hours.’

‘Technically,’ Nik repeated, ‘you should be doing shit anyway.’

‘Dammit,’ Damen muttered. ‘You’re right.’

‘I usually am.’

Damen glared at him. ‘But you never answered my question.’

‘Which was?’

‘Laurent.’

‘Oh,’ Nik sighed and stood up, handing him back his phone. ‘Yeah, objectively, he’s pretty hot.’

‘Thank you, that was all I wanted to hear.’

Nik rolled his eyes. ‘Since when did you start caring what I thought?’

Damen shrugged. ‘I don’t. I just like being told I’m right.’

***

They talked. A lot. Either on Tinder or Snapchat, or eventually over text, after Damen decided it was time to do it right. Replies were occasionally slow-going, depending on what they were doing, but it seemed that they were in constant contact, either waiting for a reply, or bombarding each other with selfies on Snapchat.

That, mostly, was Damen. He liked to send Laurent snaps throughout the day to show him things, like how clean his and Nik’s kitchen was, or a cat he saw on his way to the store.

Laurent usually only sent huge amounts of snaps when Auguste was around, and he wanted to embarrass his big brother. It seemed like that happened relatively often, but compared to Damen’s constant spamming, it was few and far between.

Auguste noticed, once, about a month into Laurent and Damen’s flirtation, that he was the subject of Laurent’s snapchats.

‘Who are you sending those to?’ he asked, slotting the last of the dishes into the washer.

‘Damen,’ Laurent said nonchalantly.

‘Damen?’ Auguste repeated. ‘That guy from Tinder who I have a crush on who invited you to Greece?’

Laurent looked up from his phone. ‘Clearly you know who Damen is.’

‘Oh, yes, I’m familiar with my boyfriend from an alternate universe.’

Laurent grinned as he stopped recording and hit send to Damen. ‘I’m sure he’ll find that interesting.’

‘Pardon, Laurent, what did you do?’

Laurent spun on the couch to show Auguste his phone. A short, muted video of Damen blowing a kiss, the caption: _For your brother_.

‘Laurent,’ Auguste said slowly, carefully, dangerously. ‘I’m going to kill you.’

‘I’m filming this as evidence to use in your upcoming murder trial, then,’ Laurent grinned.

Auguste huffed and fell backwards to merge with the cushions of the couch. ‘Laurent,’ he whined. ‘Why would you do that to me? You’d let me play myself like that?’

‘Uh, yes, obviously.’

‘I didn’t know you were even still talking to him.’

‘We talk pretty much every day,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘I think I might actually really like him.’

‘Oh?’

‘I think he might actually have been kidding about Greece, though. He hasn’t brought it up again, and I don’t think I’m going to.’

‘You aren’t?’

‘No. It was a good conversation starter, but I don’t think it was ever going to actually amount to anything.’

‘That’s kind of an emo way to look at it,’ Auguste sighed. ‘Do you think you’ll at least meet up with him?’

Laurent sighed, too, and joined his brother in the back of the couch. ‘I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. And he’s going to Greece in mid-June, so that’s only a couple of months away, and that probably wouldn’t really make the beginning of a viable relationship.’

‘Rough.’

‘Yep.’

Auguste was quiet for a few moments, tapping his fingers on his legs. ‘Have you looked up fares?’ he asked quietly.

‘Of course, I’ve looked up fares,’ Laurent replied. ‘I even got to the finalise tickets screen once.’

‘So, you’re considering it?’

‘Auguste, a gorgeous man offered to be my guide around a country I’ve always wanted to go to. I know he’s not catfishing me, and he seems to like me, despite being the person I am. I’m considering it.’

‘There’s nothing stopping you from going, you know.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m sure you’d be more than capable of going around by yourself.’

‘Obviously.’

‘And you’ll be finished with school,’ Auguste continued, almost absently. ‘You’ve definitely earned the right to go for a while.’

‘Are you trying to convince me to do something I want to do anyway?’ Laurent asked suspiciously.

‘Is it working?’

‘I’ve already had this conversation with myself.’

‘So that would be a..?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘What if Damen asks you again?’

‘Well, fuck, Auguste, maybe it’ll be a sign!’ Laurent threw his hands up in frustration and frowned. ‘Why are you on my case about this?’

‘It’s my job as an older brother,’ Auguste shrugged. ‘Besides, you know we have the means. You could easily do it. You’re just choosing not to.’

‘Oh my God, you’re so annoying,’ Laurent muttered.

‘Look, here’s –’ Auguste stopped, as Laurent’s phone lit up with a text from where he’d thrown it onto the coffee table in front of the couch. ‘Shit.’

‘“Here’s shit?”’ Laurent repeated. ‘Hard pass, thanks.’

‘No, here’s your sign,’ Auguste said, handing Laurent his phone.

 

_(16:01) So I was talking with Nik about Greece, and I was wondering if you’d made a decision about whether you’re coming or not?_

_(16:01) No pressure! :)_

Laurent squinted suspiciously around his living room. ‘Is my apartment bugged or something?’

‘No idea,’ Auguste said cheerfully. ‘So? What are you gonna tell him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What does your _heart_ say?’

‘I don’t listen to my heart,’ Laurent paused. ‘Because it tells me stupid things like I should go to Greece to meet a stranger.’

Auguste grinned. ‘So..?’

‘Get my laptop.’

 

**(16:05) Hypothetically, what day should I arrive?**

_(16:05) You’re coming?_

**(16:05) Give me a date before I change my mind, Damen.**

_(16:06) Holy shit!!_

_(16:06) Okay, I get there June 12, arrive June 14 and I’ll pick you up from the airport?_

**(16:06) If you don’t, I’ll find you, and I will not be pleased.**

_(16:07) Deal!_

_(16:07) I’m so excited!_

‘Auguste!’ Laurent yelled. ‘Why are you taking so long?’

‘You looked distracted!’ Auguste said defensively, popping up immediately from the back of the couch and passing Laurent’s laptop to him. ‘When are you going?’

‘June 14th.’

‘How long for?’

 

**(16:09) How long are you staying?**

_(16:09) Like two months, I think, but you don’t have to spend all that time._

_(16:09) A couple of days, even, if you don’t want to stay long._

**(16:10) How long would you recommend?**

_(16:10) At least a week._

_(16:10) And you can stay with us, if you want. The house has spare rooms :)_

‘Two weeks,’ Laurent said, pulling up the site he had bookmarked for tickets.

‘Accommodation?’

‘Damen’s.’

‘Oh, wow, going in all guns blazing, huh?’

‘Shut up,’ Laurent said, selecting his dates, and going through to find tickets and seats. ‘Am I making a bad choice?’

Auguste watched his brother go through the site quickly and efficiently with practised motions. He laughed lightly and shook his head. ‘I think if you were making a mistake, you’d be much slower at this.’

Laurent finalised the tickets and went through to his email for the confirmation without saying a word. ‘I really just did that.’

‘You did.’

Laurent blinked and shut his laptop, tossing his phone to the armchair. ‘Fuck,’ he said, with feeling.

 

**(16:15) My tickets are booked. Two weeks. June 14th.**

_(16:15) !!!_

**(16:16) This is crazy, you know that, right?**

_(16:16) Absolutely! Gonna be fun, though!_

**(16:16) I hope so. I really don’t want to taint the thought of Greece with bad memories.**

_(16:17) You won’t, I promise B)_

***

‘He’s coming!’ Damen announced, sprinting to Nik’s room and bouncing onto the bed, face first into the pillows. ‘He’s coming!’

‘Who is?’ Nik asked, ignoring Damen beside him and continuing to type on his laptop.

‘Laurent! To Greece!’

Nik stopped and looked up. ‘He is? How did you manage that?’

‘Just my overwhelming charm and how much people love me,’ Damen rolled onto his back and grinned at Nik. ‘We’re picking him up from the airport.’

‘Sorry, we?’

‘Yes, we. If I drive to get him by myself, I’ll end up crashing the car. We can’t trust me with the car.’

‘That’s true,’ Nik nodded, going back to his laptop. ‘We can’t trust you with the car at the best of times. If you’re done in here, can you go? I’m busy?’

‘Nik,’ Damen whined. ‘You can’t expect me to celebrate this by myself, can you?’

‘Yes. Go away.’

Damen huffed and unlocked his phone as he got another text from Laurent.

 

**(16:18) Is there anything I need to pack?**

_(16:18) Honestly you could turn up wearing a sack and I’d be excited to see you._

**(16:18) I am a de Vere. We do not wear sacks.**

**(16:19) Except Auguste, but he’s an outlier. He has no sense of style.**

_(16:19) Oh yeah, Nik is like that. He wears Hawaiian shirts because he thinks they look good._

**(16:20) My condolences.**

_(16:20) So, two months!_

_(16:20) You better not lose interest in me before then._

**(16:21) You better not turn out to be a serial killer when I arrive.**

**(16:21) Even if you have promised you aren’t.**

_(16:22) I’m not, I swear._

_(16:22) Do you want to, like, meet Nik beforehand or something?_

_(16:23) Just so you at least know one person?_

**(16:23) That’s a strange proposition.**

_(16:24) Would it help?_

**(16:24) I suppose it would.**

_(16:24) When are you free?_

**(16:25) Never and always.**

_(16:25) Uh, so, theoretically if I sent him to a bar or for coffee or something like today or tomorrow you could meet him?_

**(16:27) Yes.**

 

‘Nik, you’re taking one for the team,’ Damen said, tilting his head back up at his friend.

‘I’m what?’ Nik asked, looking dangerously like he was about to kick Damen where he was right next to his feet. ‘What did you get me into?’

‘Uh, could you meet up with Laurent so he knows I’m not a serial killer, and also so he isn’t technically flying to the other side of the world to meet a bunch of strangers?’

Nik groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. ‘Do I have a choice?’

‘Well, yeah, but no.’

‘Jesus, Damen,’ Nik sighed. ‘Where and when?’

‘I’ll see what Laurent says, gimme a sec.’

 

_(16:30) Which works better for you?_

**(16:30) I’m actually meeting my brother for coffee in about half an hour if Nik wants to drop by.**

_(16:31) Great! He’ll be there._

**(16:31) Tell him to look for the two blonds.**

_(16:32) Will do!_

‘So, you’re off to get coffee with Laurent and his brother in half an hour,’ Damen said, slapping Nik on the knee and getting off his bed. ‘Get ready.’

Nik shut his laptop with a resigned glance down to Damen. ‘You’re not gonna stalk me there, are you? Isn’t this whole thing to keep some mystery?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes what?’

‘Yes.’

***

‘So, Damen’s friend is going to meet us here so, what, you can confirm with not-Damen that Damen isn’t going to murder you in your sleep and turn you into a lampshade?’ Auguste said, frowning as he stirred his ridiculously sugary, chocolate filled drink with his straw.

‘Something like that,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘It was his idea.’

‘And you thought, “Yeah, I’ll have some stranger crash my brotherly bonding,” right?’

‘You remember I am literally flying to another country to meet this guy,’ Laurent asked, raising an eyebrow, and sipping his iced coffee. ‘I think I’m allowed to take precautions.’

‘So Skype him!’

‘Jesus, I don’t think he’s gonna stay here very long, can you take a deep breath, please?’

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because I can see him!’

***

Nik slipped his phone from his pocket as he approached the Starbucks Damen had told him to meet Laurent at. He was not at all surprised to find himself in this position, and it wasn’t even the craziest thing he’d ever done. Definitely not when it came to Damen’s influence. He’d been roping him into shit like this since they were kids, and somehow, he still hadn’t learned.

It was a text from Damen, and not even a text, just a screenshot of Laurent’s Tinder profile. Yeah, because he’d forgotten what he looked like, after having the same photos and face from snapchats shoved at him, day in and day out for the last _however_ long.

Somehow, Damen managed to outdo himself, calling Nik mere seconds after sending the photo.

 _‘Do you see him yet?’_ Damen asked.

‘I think so,’ Nik said, as he rounded the corner near the Starbucks, catching sight of two blond heads sitting outside to enjoy the early evening sun.

 _‘And?’_ Damen pressed. _‘What does he look like?’_

‘This may surprise you, but from what I can see, exactly like his pictures.’

 _‘Oh my God,’_ Damen groaned. _‘Nik, I need details.’_

Nik paused a good distance away, close enough to be able to see Laurent and his brother, but not so close they would be able to hear him talking. Laurent and his brother had the same golden hair, and whoever wasn’t facing him – possibly the brother – spun quickly and lifted his sunglasses, before turning back to Laurent.

_‘Nik? What’s going on?’_

‘Oh, dude, you’re not going to survive,’ Nik muttered.

 _‘Nik, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Nik!’_ Damen yelled, as Nik hung up the phone.

He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and headed to where Laurent and his brother were sitting. ‘Hey,’ he greeted, sliding his sunglasses into his hair and giving Laurent an easy smile as he held out his hand. ‘Nik.’

Laurent stood and pushed his own sunglasses into his hair, taking Nik’s hand. Good, firm grip. ‘Laurent. This is my brother, Auguste.’

Auguste stood with the same lithe grace as his brother, joining them by moving his sunglasses off his face, instead hooking them into the front of his shirt. ‘So, you know Damen?’ he asked, his voice a little deeper, but no less pleasant than Laurent’s. ‘My brother talks about him endlessly.’

‘If it helps, Damen never stops talking about Laurent, either,’ Nik said in commiseration, as they all sat back down. ‘I hear you’re coming to Greece with us?’

‘I am,’ Laurent said, a small smile gracing his lips, which he quickly covered by taking a sip of his drink. ‘Damen said I could stay with you? If that’s not okay, I’m happy to make other arrangements.’

‘Don’t worry about it. There’s more than enough room,’ Nik said. ‘I guess I should ask – you’re not going to murder any of us while we sleep, right?’

‘Nope. Anyone going to murder me?’

‘Nope.’

‘Good, glad we got that sorted,’ Auguste said. ‘So, what exactly are Damen’s intentions with my brother?’

Nik shrugged. ‘He really only says how absolutely in love he is, how pretty Laurent is, how smart he is… Take from that what you will.’

Auguste turned back to his brother, now blushing slightly as he sipped his drink casually. ‘What are your thoughts on that?’ Laurent stayed silent, and Auguste took that as permission to turn back to Nik. ‘My brother is basically the same about Damen.’

‘Should be a smooth two weeks, then.’

‘Maybe not for them,’ Auguste grinned. ‘Or for anyone in neighbouring rooms.’

‘I’m in a neighbouring room.’

‘I’ll keep you in my thoughts.’

‘I appreciate it,’ Nik said with a sigh. There was a small pause in conversation as Auguste joined his brother in sipping his drink, in which somehow, Damen managed to time another call perfectly. Seeing who it was on his screen, Nik was half tempted to ignore it, but he knew Damen would end up calling back until he was answered. ‘What can I do for you?’ Nik asked, answering the phone like he wasn’t sitting across from the object of Damen’s affections.

 _‘Did you find him?’_ Damen asked.

‘I did.’

_‘And?’_

‘And I’m sitting here with him and his brother,’ Nik said, watching as Laurent turned another, slightly more interesting shade of red. ‘Was that all you wanted to know?’

_‘No – yes. No, I want – no. Yes. That was it.’_

‘Great, thanks for calling!’

‘Damen?’ Auguste guessed, as Nik put his phone on the table.

‘Damen,’ Nik confirmed. ‘Give it a couple of seconds, he’ll call back.’

Sure enough, moments later, his screen lit up again, Damen’s contact picture (coconut bra and all) interrupting their patient silence.

Nik stared at the phone. Looked up, stared at Laurent, who was staring at Auguste, who was staring back at his brother. Nik looked to Auguste, back to his phone, back to Laurent.

‘May I answer?’ Auguste asked.

‘Sure,’ Nik said.

Auguste smiled and lifted his eyes mischievously to his brother. ‘Hello?’

Nik watched as Auguste’s grin grew bigger, as he introduced himself (“I’m Laurent’s elder and arguably better-looking brother. Yes, Auguste. Yeah, you lucked out.”) and looked to be enjoying himself.

Auguste handed the phone across to Nik. ‘He asked for you.’

 _‘Nik!’_ Damen screeched, as soon as Nik held the phone to his ear. _‘I told you not to let me talk to either of them!’_

‘You said nothing of the sort, and please stop screaming.’

 _‘Nik!’_ Damen said again, as Nik hung up the line. Again.

‘Sorry, he’s being very dramatic today. It’s been a lot.’

‘It’s okay, I know the feeling,’ Laurent said quietly. ‘Do you think he’ll actually want to meet me?’

Nik smiled softly. ‘Yeah. I don’t doubt that for a moment. The only mistake I think you’re making is the two week timeframe you’ve given yourself.’

‘Too long?’ Laurent asked, swirling his drink in the cup, watching the ice cubes closely.

‘Nah,’ Nik shook his head. ‘I think once you two finally meet, you’ll wish it was more than just two weeks.’

***

‘You are the most dramatic bitch I have ever met in my life,’ Nik announced loudly, arriving back at his and Damen’s apartment and tossing his keys into the bowl beside the door.

Damen sidled out of the hallway and glared at Nik as he jumped over the back of the couch, landing on the cushions with a small protesting groan from the frame. ‘I don’t care.’

‘I know you don’t.’

‘Tell me everything,’ Damen said, pulling his legs up under himself like a child. ‘What was he like?’

Nik sat in one of the armchairs and ran his hands through his hair. ‘His photos don’t do him justice, dude. He’s genuinely one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in my life.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously,’ Nik nodded. ‘His brother, too, and they’re both… nice.’

‘Really?’

‘Really really. You know how to pick them, I’ll give you that.’

‘You think I have a type,’ Damen smiled. ‘You still think he’s a Jokaste?’

‘Can’t say for sure either way. People are rarely who they seem at first meeting.’

‘But?’

‘But, Damianos, you’re in trouble,’ Nik shrugged. ‘Whether or not Laurent is a Jokaste, I still think you’re gonna fall in love with him. Like, for real.’

‘What if I already am?’ Damen challenged, though his voice might’ve been a little too weak to be convincing.

‘Then you haven’t seen anything yet, because there’s more where that came from.’

‘Oh God.’

‘Yep.’

***

‘He’s hot,’ Auguste said appreciatively, sipping his drink a little too suggestively as Nik left.

‘Please don’t go thirsting after my future husband’s best friend,’ Laurent said, kicking him under the table.

Auguste brandished his drink meaningfully at Laurent, as if to say, _this is all I’m thirsting for!_ ‘There’s nothing wrong with looking.’

‘There absolutely is, because I can see you rating his ass in your mind.’

‘So?’

‘We’ve just been over why you shouldn’t do that, Auguste.’

‘Because he’s Damen’s bestie?’ Auguste hummed thoughtfully. ‘I suppose you have a point. A double wedding would absolutely steal our beautiful thunder.’

‘Auguste –’

‘Relax, Laurent, I’m joking. But seriously, he’s hot. You should jump on that.’

‘Auguste!’

‘I’m not saying ditch Damen, I’m _saying_ the world is full of possibilities, and that? Is definitely one.’

‘Are you saying –’

‘Threesome?’ Auguste nodded. ‘I’m tempted myself.’

‘You’re the worst,’ Laurent groaned.

‘At least I’m not boring.’

***

The night before Laurent was set to leave, he sat, staring at his suitcase, wondering what the _fuck_ he was doing. He’d received a snapchat from Damen when he’d landed, throwing a peace sign and grinning as he wandered through the airport with Nik. This in itself was not the cause of Laurent’s current anxiety, but –

Wait. No. That’s exactly what the cause was, wasn’t it? The root cause? Damen had landed in Greece, and now Laurent was going to be there, too. They were going to _meet_. The guy he’d been talking to for months, who seemed too nice and too good to be true, they were finally going to see each other face to face.

‘Is this a bad idea?’ Laurent asked, as soon as Auguste picked up the phone.

‘Laurent?’ Auguste asked, his voice sleepy and distant. ‘What time is it?’

Laurent looked to his alarm clock – just past one in the morning. ‘That’s irrelevant. Is this a bad idea?’

‘It’s…’ Auguste paused and sighed. ‘I don’t know, what do you want me to say?’

‘Something comforting, preferably. Don’t know if you can _hear_ the panic in my voice but –’

‘Laurent, calm down,’ Auguste said, and Laurent immediately felt his mouth snap shut of its own accord. ‘You like Damen, right? You’ve been pretty much dating since you matched on Tinder, and now you’re finally going to meet him. It doesn’t matter it’s happening in Greece, it’s Damen. You know Damen.’

‘I know Damen,’ Laurent repeated.

‘You know Damen. And you’ve met Nik, and you like him, too. If it turns out you _don’t_ like Damen, you can just hang with Nik for a couple of weeks, yeah?’

‘But I like Damen.’

‘Then your problem is what? Nerves?’

‘Yes,’ Laurent said defensively, ‘which is _normal_ , thanks.’

‘It is,’ Auguste agreed. ‘So, you’re going to take some deep breaths, hang up the damn phone so I can sleep, and pack your suitcase. I’m picking you up at one.’

‘How do you know I haven’t packed?’

‘Am I wrong?’

‘…No.’

‘Great. Deep breaths, please.’

Laurent rolled his eyes, but breathed in and out a few times until he was sure he had whatever this was under control. It was going to be fine. He knew Damen. He liked Damen. He was going to see Damen in person and it would be _okay_.

‘Better?’ Auguste asked.

‘Yes. Sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later.’

‘Okay. Sorry for waking you.’

‘It’s fine. Night, Laurent.’

‘Night,’ Laurent mumbled, hanging up his phone and tossing it further up the bed.

He looked back to his suitcase and set his hands on his hips. He was going to get this done. It was just one small thing on the way to the rest of his life, either with Damen in it, or as a pleasant blip in the past.

He hoped, though, it wouldn’t be just a blip.

***

Touching down in Athens saw Laurent verge on having an anxiety attack. He wasn’t ready for this. He wanted to go home. He could just message Damen and say he’d missed his flight, then sneak out of the airport and spend two weeks holed up somewhere he couldn’t be found. He could just message Damen and say he was –

 _No._ Auguste had predicted this on the way to the airport. He’d told Laurent to just breathe, because this was the crest of the hill, and once he was over it and with Damen, things would be so much easier. He’d even reminded Laurent of what Nik had said when they met up for coffee – once you meet him, two weeks won’t be enough.

So, Laurent squeezed the arms of his seat, channelling as much of his anxiety into it as he could, and waited for permission to stand and exit the plane. He grabbed his carry-on, took a last couple of ultra-filtered breaths of air, and left.

He was doing this.

The airport Wi-Fi was shitty, but good enough that he could connect to it and send a snapchat to his brother confirming he’d arrived, and another to Damen saying he was on the ground. He’d had the sense to quickly use the plane’s bathroom and freshen up a little before landing, so he couldn’t even use that a valid excuse to put off baggage claim and finding Damen. He did, however, do it anyway.

Then he got his bags.

And a snapchat from Damen, grinning and thumbs up, with Nik behind him, less enthused but still looking at the camera. Or maybe he was looking at the arrivals board. There were many people around them looking in the same direction, and surely not all of them were posing for Damen’s photo.

Laurent had no sooner tapped out of the picture than his phone started ringing. _Voice call from Damen._

Oh God. They hadn’t even _spoken_ before. They’d sent snapchats where they’d talked, but not… directly to each other.

‘Hello?’ Laurent answered.

‘Laurent!’ Damen’s voice was a little staticky from the connection, and it sounded like he was shouting to be heard, but the way Laurent’s name sounded coming from his mouth still sent a shiver through him. ‘We’re at the international arrivals board!’

‘Damen,’ Laurent paused, another small thrill taking his body. ‘I don’t know where that is.’

‘Wait, we’re coming to your gate. I can see the sign, are you through?’

‘Not yet. Soon.’

‘Okay, I’ll stay on the line.’

Laurent smiled a little to himself. ‘Okay.’

***

It felt like forever that Damen waited outside the gate for Laurent to appear from. He needed to clear customs, at which point, he’d gently told Damen he was going to hang up, and from there it had just increased Damen’s anxiety.

‘Stop pacing,’ Nik said, interrupting his thoughts.

‘I’m not pacing,’ Damen said, walking past him again. ‘I just can’t stand still.’

‘Isn’t that the dictionary definition of pacing?’

‘No, that’s the definition of _“Is Nik a snarky bitch?”_ actually.’

Nik rolled his eyes and shook his head. ‘Stop being a shit, Damen. People are starting to come through.’

‘Well, unless they’re –’

‘Tall and blond?’

Damen spun on his heel at Nik’s words, looking to the gate and seeing the exact blond Nik was describing. His hair looked a little messy, most back in a small bun with bits tucked behind his ears, trapped under a pair of black sunglasses. He was pulling a suitcase, another backpack over his shoulders, and scanning the crowd as he moved slowly towards it.

‘Is that him?’ Damen asked, eyes fixed on the blond – _surely_ that wasn’t him?

‘Yeah,’ Nik nodded, nudging him in the ribs as he waved over their heads and whistled loudly. ‘Laurent!’

The blond – _God_ , it was him – turned and grinned at them.

‘Oh my God,’ Damen whispered, his breath stuck somewhere in his chest. ‘That’s Laurent.’

‘That’s Laurent,’ Nik confirmed. ‘You wanna make the first move?’

‘I can’t move,’ Damen croaked.

‘Okay, great,’ Nik walked forward to meet Laurent, shaking his hand and pulling him into a one-armed hug.

Damen could hear them chatting about customs, Laurent apologising for the wait, and he so desperately wanted to move and say _something_ but he just couldn’t. He was stuck. This was Laurent?

They’d stopped in front of him.

‘Damen, Laurent. Laurent, Damen,’ Nik said, amusement clear in his voice.

‘Hi,’ Laurent said softly. ‘It’s good to… see you.’

Damen bit his lip and his anxiety about meeting Laurent washed away from him, like rain over his skin. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, ‘forgot how to breathe for a moment there.’

Damen was vaguely aware of Nik pretending to retch off to the side, but Laurent fucking _beamed_ at him, and he was gone. Damen must’ve done something fucking _outstanding_ in a past life for this to be Laurent. His date for the next two weeks. The man he’d found on Tinder, of all fucking places.

And he was here. In Greece. For Damen.

‘We should go,’ Laurent said, still looking up at Damen. ‘I need to wash the plane off me.’

‘Okay,’ Damen agreed. ‘But first…’

‘Yeah?’

Damen stuck his hand out. ‘Damianos. People call me Damen. Nice to meet you.’

Laurent blinked at Damen’s hand and burst into laughter, before he took it in his own and shook it, his fingers lingering on Damen’s skin. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Damen took his hand back and pursed his lips. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that. It was not what he’d – ‘No, sorry, that was too weird. Something else?’

Laurent arched one, perfect eyebrow. ‘Sure.’

Damen looked around, trying to work up the nerve as fast as he could. He wasn’t the sort of person to dither around with these things, he never – _fuck it._ In one swift movement, Damen stepped close to Laurent and wrapped an arm around his waist, ignoring how awkward that was with the backpack, and finally _kissed_ him.

It was maybe a bit more violent than he’d intended, a bit more gnashing of teeth and mashing of noses. The small _oof_ Laurent made was not the intended nor expected noise, but he was receptive to it, placing his hand on Damen’s jaw as he went on the tips of his toes and opened up to him.

The beginnings of a groan were in Damen’s throat when – ‘Uh, no,’ Nik said loudly, pushing an arm between them. ‘Not the time, not the place.’

‘Now is _exactly_ the time,’ Damen said, trying his best not to sound whiny and failing miserably.

‘You have two weeks,’ Nik said, turning and waiting for them to follow.

‘Exactly, and I’m going to take advantage of those two weeks, thanks,’ Damen flicked his eyes to Laurent, who was blushing furiously, before he added, ‘if I’m allowed to.’

‘Well,’ Nik said, before Laurent could reply. ‘I say you’re not. Not right now. Laurent, are you hungry or anything? We can pick up some food if you are, but we’ve got stuff at the house if you’re okay to wait.’

‘I’ll be okay, thank you,’ Laurent replied. ‘How far is it to where we’re staying?’

Nik shrugged. ‘Depends how fast I drive.’

***

Laurent ended up not entirely sure how long the drive took, and he might’ve taken a power nap because travelling always fucked up his body clock a little, but when he woke, they were rolling up to a beautiful villa, with the smell of the ocean coming through the open windows.

‘Who lives here?’ he muttered.

‘My parents,’ Damen said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘They spend a lot of time here, but I always get the house for a few months.’

‘This is your parents’ house?’ Laurent asked, as Nik stopped the car and went to retrieve his suitcase from the back. ‘You didn’t say –’

‘If it’s too awkward, there are hotels nearby,’ Damen said in a rush. ‘I’m sorry if –’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘I just wasn’t expecting… this. Do I get a _choice_ of rooms?’

‘The only people staying here at the moment are me and Nik,’ Damen shrugged. ‘You can have any other room, except my parents’.’

‘Like I said,’ Nik closed the boot and pulled Laurent’s suitcase up to where they had migrated from the car to the front door. ‘There’s plenty of room.’

‘Yes,’ Laurent took his suitcase from Nik with a small laugh. ‘You did.’

‘I, uh,’ Damen unlocked the door. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘I could eat?’

‘Great, I’ll get started on food, Nik can show you upstairs,’ Damen said, slipping inside and quickly out of sight.

‘Is he okay?’ Laurent asked, as he and Nik watched after him.

‘I think he’s just… a little overwhelmed,’ Nik huffed a laugh and nodded to the staircase winding up the left side of the entry hall. ‘He’ll be fine.’

Laurent hummed and followed Nik up the stairs, carrying his suitcase so the wheels wouldn’t _clack!_ horribly against every step.

‘Where do you want to sleep?’ Nik asked, once he’d given Laurent a moment to stare out at the ocean from the top of the stairs. ‘There’s a couple of bedrooms up here, or some others on the lower level, if you want.’

‘No, I’m good up here,’ Laurent said. He never saw the ocean much, and he wouldn’t mind going to sleep or waking up with the sound of it in his ears.

‘Okay,’ Nik started down the hall, gesturing at various doors as they went past, which rooms were free, and which weren’t. ‘Choice?’

Laurent nodded towards the only spare room still overlooking the ocean. Conveniently, next door to Damen. ‘If I may?’

‘Sure,’ Nik opened the door. ‘Make yourself at home, I’ll check Damen hasn’t set himself on fire. There are towels in the bathroom already if you want a shower, etcetera.’

‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. Yell out if you get lost or whatever,’ Nik said, leaving him to the room and heading back to the stairs.

With Nik gone, Laurent entered the room and looked around. It was spacious, a large bed taking up a fair amount of space, but leaving enough for some bits of furniture – a set of drawers, a plush chair by the window and door to a balcony. There was an open door leading to what Laurent assumed was the bathroom, his suspicions confirmed upon further investigation. The floor and walls were white, tiled and minimalistic. A shower, basin, toilet, and bath in front of the window. All normal bathroom amenities.

And Laurent had never been happier to see a bathroom in his life.

He left his backpack on the chair and opened his suitcase, extracting his toiletries and fresh clothes, and immediately went to the shower. The water pressure was excellent, and he could’ve stayed there happily, if not for that he really didn’t want to spend much time away from Damen.

Was that weird? They’d just met. Kinda. They’d been talking for months, and Laurent really, _really_ liked him, and now they were very much facing time constraints before they were separated again.

Then again, Laurent was really enjoying this shower.

***

‘How are you doing, buddy?’ Nik asked, plopping into a seat at the kitchen counter, watching Damen try to look important as he flitted around.

‘I’m great, thank you,’ Damen said, cracking an egg into a bowl and staring at it. ‘I didn’t need that.’

‘What are you making?’

‘Uh… I guess something with eggs.’

Nik looked at the bench and the random assortment of items Damen had taken out and strewn about. ‘Dude, just make some pancakes or something.’

‘That’s not –’

‘I think,’ Nik interrupted, ‘it’s probably best if you leave the complicated things for when you’re not completely flipping your shit about Laurent being here. Fair?’

Damen sighed and tossed the egg shell – which he was still holding for whatever reason – into the sink. ‘You’re probably right.’

‘I know I am. Want to get some feelings out before he comes down?’

‘Nik, he’s so goddamn beautiful,’ Damen whispered in a rush, leaning his elbows against the counter top. ‘Like, photos just don’t do him justice.’

‘No,’ Nik agreed, ‘they don’t.’

‘And he’s… he’s a great kisser, Nik.’

‘Yeah, I could tell, as you two were verging on the vertical horizontal tango back at the airport.’

Damen pursed his lips and straightened up to wash the egg off his hands so he could gather other ingredients for pancakes. ‘Do you think he’s freaking out as much as I am?’ he asked quietly, as he placed the flour and milk on the counter. ‘Or am I overreacting?’

Nik shrugged. ‘I don’t know him well enough to say, but I think if I were him, meeting someone I’d been talking to for months but never met, and suddenly I was in a foreign country, staying in the house of my internet boyfriend, I would be at least a little overwhelmed. But yes, you are definitely overreacting.’

Damen flicked flour at him as he began measuring it out. ‘I just – I really like him, Nik.’

‘I know. He really likes you, too. Don’t worry.’

‘How do you know?’

‘He told me.’

‘When?’

‘That time you made me meet him and his brother at Starbucks.’

‘Oh.’ Damen sifted the flour in silence and cracked another egg before he spoke again. ‘Do you think I need to like, back off a little?’

Nik hummed thoughtfully. ‘I think you just need to read the signals he gives you and you’ll be okay.’

‘Wow, yeah, hadn’t thought of that.’

‘You asked my opinion.’

Damen shot him a look and went to toss the eggshell in the sink, about to give another witty retort, when Laurent came into the kitchen, his skin lightly flushed from his shower, hair damp and trailing water around the shoulders of his shirt. The eggshell went sailing into the bowl with a gentle _plop!_ thanks to Damen’s distraction.

Laurent blinked at it and frowned. ‘Was that supposed to go in there?’

Damen looked into the bowl and sighed. ‘Nope.’

‘Are you going to take it out?’

‘I should.’

Nik, who was still in the kitchen and watching Damen in disbelief, rolled his eyes and turned to Laurent instead. ‘Feel better?’

‘Much. This house is gorgeous, by the way, and my view is amazing.’

‘Where are you?’ Damen asked.

‘Room next to you,’ Nik offered. ‘I’m going out to get some stuff, I think. Anyone want anything?’

‘I’m good, thank you,’ Laurent smiled. ‘Damen?’

Damen sighed, leaning on the bench and taking a breath. ‘Oh man.’

‘Dear God, I’m going,’ Nik muttered. ‘I’ll be back later.’

‘Yep,’ Damen said, watching Nik leave, before looking back to Laurent. ‘Do you want pancakes?’

Laurent smiled, approaching the bench and sitting at one of the stools opposite Damen. ‘Depends. Are you taking the eggshell out?’

‘Fuck,’ Damen muttered, picking out the shell and tossing it into the sink – not missing this time. ‘Eggshell out.’

‘Then I would love pancakes.’

‘Great,’ Damen said, turning away from Laurent briefly to get a pan from the cupboard. Was it weird he was almost a little glad for the break? Laurent was quite literally _stunning_ in person and this close up, and not only that, but he was being so _nice_. Damen already knew he was nice, of course, but he felt like he could explode being in such close proximity to him.

‘So,’ Laurent said, once Damen had worked up the nerve to face him. He was still smiling, resting his chin on his hand. ‘That was nice of Nik.’

‘To do what?’

‘Leave. Give us time.’

Damen pursed his lips as he started pouring batter into the pan. ‘Can I be honest?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’m a little… intimidated.’

‘By me?’ Laurent asked, surprised. ‘We’ve been talking for months, I’m still the same person.’

‘Yeah, but your photos don’t do you justice.’

Laurent blushed and looked down to the bench, tracing patterns on the marble top with his finger. ‘Neither do yours.’

Damen didn’t know how to respond to that, so he turned his full attention to getting a stack of pancakes out and in front of Laurent. ‘Toppings?’

‘Anything you have,’ Laurent said, eyeing up the plate. ‘I could eat… not a horse, but something horse sized.’

Damen smiled as he browsed through the cupboards. ‘Syrup?’

‘Definitely.’

As Laurent started pouring syrup over his pancakes, Damen asked, ‘So, what do you want to do first?’

Laurent hummed as he chewed his bite of pancakes. ‘You’re my tour guide. You tell me.’

***

They ended up staying home for the day, sitting and talking and generally getting used to the actual existence of each other.

Damen, at one point, took Laurent for a quick tour around the garden, venturing to the edge of the property, where he pointed out things on the horizon to Laurent – small islands, places he’d climbed to at some point, the occasional dolphin.

Laurent felt so at peace here, especially with the calming presence of Damen beside him. He could really get used to this. As they made their way around the house, Laurent even felt maybe like he belonged. He’d grown up in places like this, so he wasn’t honestly too shocked by the size and opulence of the villa, but it was arguably nicer. Nothing was overdone, everything was just simply impressive, refined elegance, and it felt… very much like a home.

There were little bits of life strewn around, framed family photos and trinkets on shelves lined with books – huge, leather bound texts mingled with modern paperbacks, and Laurent resisted every temptation to run his hands over the covers or at least, get a better look at them.

They were mostly acclimatised by the time Nik returned that evening, something delicious in tow as he came into the kitchen, calling them in from the living room where they’d been talking. Still.

‘How was your afternoon?’ Nik asked, handing them each a plate.

‘It was good,’ Damen said, following suit as he sat at the bench, his stool scuffing the tile beneath. ‘Yours?’

‘Went to see Lazar and Pallas. They want to meet your mystery man.’

‘Me?’ Laurent asked, fork poised halfway to his mouth.

‘You,’ Nik confirmed. ‘They’re friends of ours. You might like them.’

‘Sure, I’d love to meet them.’

‘We’d sort of planned to go out on the boat with them in a few days, but it looks like it’s going to be hotter tomorrow, so if you want, we can go tomorrow,’ Damen said. ‘You can say no, there are plenty of –’

‘Damen,’ Laurent interrupted with a smile. ‘Tomorrow’s great.’

‘Oh!’ Damen stopped, giving Laurent a dazzling smile. ‘Okay.’

‘Jesus,’ Nik muttered, looking between them. ‘Should I have _stayed_ with them?’

‘I’m sure they’re worse than this.’

Nik muttered something that sounded like an _“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight,”_ and attacked his food, chewing loudly enough that it was probably an attempt to block out any more of their conversation.

They ended up back on the couches, all three of them talking about nothing of huge importance, with Nik even being brave enough to decide to sleep upstairs, once they decided it was time for bed.

‘So,’ Damen said, when they arrived upstairs for the night and were stood outside Laurent’s door. ‘I just want to thank you for trusting me enough to come here.’

‘I think at some point, Auguste referred to it as a leap of faith,’ Laurent said. ‘Though, I must say, meeting Nik beforehand and having him confirm you won’t murder me was… a good help.’

Damen laughed, and made a gesture like he wanted to caress Laurent’s face or something, but aborted the gesture partway, his hand hovering awkwardly at shoulder height. After a moment too long, he dropped it to Laurent’s shoulder, giving him a friendly squeeze.

Laurent turned his head slowly to look at it, eyebrow raised. ‘Well. Bed, I think.’

‘Right,’ Damen agreed, removing his hand. ‘Sweet dreams. If you need anything, I’m next door and Nik’s… down there somewhere.’

‘Please don’t come knocking on my door,’ Nik called, apparently hearing their conversation as his door was still open.

Damen stifled a laugh. ‘I’m next door, then.’

‘Thank you,’ Laurent smiled, slipping into his room. ‘Sleep well.’

Damen gave a weird little bow of farewell and retreated to his room, closing the door softly.

In his own room, Laurent looked around at the assortment of things he had scattered across the room. He was tired, sure, but he didn’t know if he was tired enough to sleep, or if the high he was feeling from being around Damen would prevent it.

It was already closer to midnight than he’d thought, so it was probably wise to try and sleep. The sheets were soft and smooth against his skin as he slid into them, and while he was comfortable in the bed, he stayed awake, staring at the ceiling.

Nothing he tried would send him to sleep, and when he next looked at the time, it was almost one.

There was something – something he’d been wanting to do since this afternoon, something he’d been thinking about for weeks – and by feeding the thought of it now, in these dark hours, he felt… consumed by it.

‘No,’ Laurent muttered to himself, rolling to his other side. ‘He’ll be asleep.’

But the thought was persistent, and the knowledge of Damen on the other side of the wall was not exactly helping. It wouldn’t hurt to… check.

‘Fuck,’ Laurent said, swinging back to the side and climbing from his bed, walking to the door and opening it as quietly as he could.

The walk to Damen’s door felt like miles, when in reality it was only a few steps. He didn’t know, even when he got there, hand ready to knock on the smooth wood before him, if he wanted Damen to be awake or not.

Two soft knocks, and Laurent winced, already retreating from the door. ‘Fuck,’ he muttered again, stepping back, ready to run.

Instead – ‘Come in.’

Laurent pursed his lips, unsure how he felt about Damen being awake. He opened the door with a gentle hand, stepping in and closing it behind himself. ‘Hi,’ he murmured. ‘Sorry for waking you.’

Damen jolted in surprise. He hadn’t been sleeping, and dropped the book he’d been reading on his bedside table. ‘Laurent!’

‘Sorry,’ Laurent said again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay with you. You’ve been so generous and kind and nice to me, I just… thank you.’

‘It’s no problem,’ Damen said quickly. ‘We’re more than happy to have you.’

Laurent nodded, suddenly greatly unsure of himself and his plan. ‘That’s all I wanted to say, so… night.’

‘Night,’ Damen echoed, and Laurent could’ve sworn he looked disappointed when he left for the door.

Lauren got back to his room, and made it as far as lifting the covers to get back into bed before he decided that _no_ , he was going to follow through.

He dropped the sheets and checked himself briefly in his bathroom mirror, unsure why, when he’d just seen Damen. His hair was still slightly dishevelled from where he’d been rolling around in bed, and he really couldn’t just whip off the shirt he was wearing because that would be… _far_ too obvious.

Laurent shook his head at himself and left the bathroom, heading back to his door and pushing down whatever feelings of nerve were trying to rise in his chest.

He didn’t bother knocking on the door again, just opened it and slipped inside and let out a breath, before asking lowly, ‘Do you want me?’

Damen blinked at the sudden reappearance of Laurent in his room, his hand still outstretched to pick up his book again. ‘Sorry?’

‘Do you want me?’ Laurent repeated. ‘Tell me now.’

Damen’s face softened, the confusion giving way to surety as he nodded. ‘Of course, I do.’

‘Good,’ Laurent said, making his way to the bed without another thought and climbing on, straddling Damen’s thighs and bringing their mouths together, much softer than his manner up to that point would suggest.

Damen’s hands came up to rest on his hips, fingers clenching briefly into the fabric of the oversized shirt covering them, before he slid his hands down and back up under it.

Laurent broke away, resting his forehead on Damen’s shoulder, as he kissed a path down Laurent’s neck. ‘That was… rude of me,’ he mumbled.

‘No,’ Damen murmured against his skin, biting the juncture of neck and shoulder softly, ‘only rude either of us did this sooner.’

Laurent laughed breathily, letting out a small moan as Damen’s hands ventured higher, gracing over his nipples and back down to his hips, one hand dipping below the band of his sleep shorts. ‘I hope it was worth waiting for.’

Damen hummed as he fingered the cleft of Laurent’s ass, placing another series of light kisses over his neck. ‘I’m sure it will be.’

‘Oh god,’ Laurent gasped and ground down against Damen, as his finger slipped against his rim. ‘Make me come.’

Damen chuckled, teasing him with both his hands and his mouth. ‘I will.’

***

Damen woke up the next morning to a head of blond hair beside him on the pillow, and was immediately reminded of last night’s tryst. Memories of Laurent’s breathy little moans and sighs as they moved together came flooding back, and Damen smiled against his hair, tightening his arm around Laurent’s waist.

‘Morning,’ Laurent murmured, rolling over in his arms to face him. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Better than I have in years,’ Damen said, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. ‘You?’

‘I had a very warm octopus stuck on me,’ Laurent said, running one hand up Damen’s arm and coming to rest on his shoulder. ‘But I slept well.’

‘Excited for today?’

‘The boat,’ Laurent nodded, glancing to the open curtains of Damen’s balcony windows that were waving gently in the breeze. ‘I’m not skinny dipping in the ocean.’

‘That’s okay,’ Damen grinned as he looked down the line of Laurent’s body, part hidden beneath the sheets. ‘I’ve already seen you naked.’

‘If you don’t start sounding slightly more impressed by that, you’re not going to again.’

‘Oh,’ Damen said, pushing lightly and rolling Laurent to his back, placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, ‘I’m very impressed by it.’

‘Good,’ Laurent said, letting out a contented sigh, and threading the fingers of one hand into Damen’s hair. ‘What are you doing?’

Damen paused and looked up, eyebrow raised as he slowly pulled the sheet from around Laurent’s waist, settling between his legs pointedly.

‘Oh,’ Laurent said softly. ‘Is there time before we have to leave?’

Damen laughed, thumbing the dips of Laurent’s hips. ‘There’s always time.’

***

‘You two look far too pleased with yourselves,’ Nik said lightly, as Damen and Laurent walked into the kitchen.

They’d showered and, dressed only in towels wrapped around their waists, Laurent had sat Damen on the floor and braided his hair, though parts were already falling out, too soft and short to stay properly in place.

‘Good morning,’ Laurent greeted, taking an apple from the fruit bowl and biting into it. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘With a pillow wrapped around my ears. You?’

Laurent blushed, steadfastly ignoring the heat travelling over his skin.

‘He’s joking,’ Damen murmured, as he walked past to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

‘In any case,’ Nik said, pointing at him with the knife he was using to make sandwiches, ‘I got all the food ready while you two were… doing whatever you were doing.’

‘Great, thanks,’ Damen said cheerfully. ‘Lazar and Pallas are meeting us at the dock, yeah?’

‘Yeah, and a couple others.’

Damen nodded, satisfied with this answer. ‘We’ll leave in twenty. Grab what you need.’

Laurent leaned slightly closer to Damen as Nik headed off upstairs. ‘He didn’t hear, did he?’

‘Babe,’ Damen laughed a little. ‘ _I_ barely heard you.’

Laurent smiled and bit into his apple again. ‘Any recommendations for what to bring?’

‘Sunscreen. You’ll burn without it. Everything else is optional.’

‘Including clothes?’

‘Not limited to but definitely including,’ Damen winked. ‘Go grab your stuff, we’ll meet you outside.’

Laurent nodded, heading the same way as Nik, as Damen disappeared somewhere else, shoving a few things haphazardly into his backpack as he ate his apple, before he frowned and repacked it neater.

He made his way down the stairs, chucking his apple core into the small bin for compost in the kitchen that Damen had pointed out, and joined him and Nik outside at the car.

The drive might’ve been long, or maybe it wasn’t – Laurent didn’t know – because he spent most of it looking out the window with a small smile. This trip was a good idea for more than just that he’d officially met Damen.

They arrived at a carpark at a dock, and Damen helped him from the car, despite that he didn’t need it, and held his hand lightly as he led the way to the boat.

Laurent raised his eyebrows when they stopped, and Damen waved him aboard. ‘Parents, huh?’ he said.

‘Parents,’ Damen agreed with a shrug. ‘We’re here!’ he called out, as he unlocked the door to the cabin for Laurent to dump his bag.

A head popped over the upper deck, grinning down at them. ‘You’re late!’ the guy replied, disappearing briefly, before he reappeared down the set of stairs to their right. ‘Is this the guy?’

Damen nodded. ‘Laurent, Lazar, Lazar, Laurent.’

‘Laurent?’ Lazar looked over him appraisingly, and Laurent thought he detected a slight accent in his voice. ‘Nikandros has been dreading your arrival. Have you and Damen..?’

 _‘That’s very forward of you,’_ Laurent replied, switching to French and hoping he wasn’t wrong about him.

Lazar looked delighted, laughing and clapping him on the shoulder, sticking with the language. _‘Oh, I_ like _you.’_

 _‘I’m taken,’_ Laurent said, winking at him.

 _‘So am I,’_ Lazar sighed, waving towards the upper deck. _‘My darling, Pallas, is doing_ technical _things up there.’_

‘I heard my name!’ someone else called from upstairs, coming down the stairs and stopping to stand with his arm around Lazar’s shoulder. They made a good pair, Laurent thought, clearly besotted with each other as Pallas introduced himself and kissed Lazar’s cheek. ‘You didn’t tell me you had a Frenchman, too, Damen.’

Damen frowned, looking to Laurent suspiciously. ‘I didn’t know you could speak French.’

‘Did I not mention that?’

‘No?’

‘Oh. Well, my name is Laurent. I am literally French, just like my parents,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘It’s my mother tongue.’

 _‘We can compare our men,’_ Lazar said, still in French. _‘Pallas likes his hair pulled. Damen?’_

 _‘Can’t tell you quite yet,’_ Laurent responded in the same, flicking his gaze back to where Damen and Pallas were watching them with what could only be described as _heart eyes_. _‘I think we broke them.’_

 _‘I think they’re just turned on,’_ Lazar shrugged. _‘They say French is a romance language, do they not?’_

Laurent shrugged back and switched to English again, directing his words to Damen. ‘Do you think French is romantic?’

‘Very much so,’ Damen said, looking to Pallas who nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

‘You’re right,’ Laurent smiled slyly, keeping with English as he looked back to Lazar. ‘They’re turned on.’

***

Once all of Damen’s friends had arrived, Laurent being introduced proudly to each of them, they set sail for the open water, arriving at their favoured spot a little while later.

Laurent had been sat on the top deck with Nik and Damen as they discussed where they were going, as well as some other technical things Laurent didn’t quite catch. He was smothered in sunscreen and was under the awning, but he still found himself slightly afraid he would burn under the steadily rising sun. It wasn’t yet midday and he was already… very warm. He was glad when the boat stopped and dropped anchor, and it was free rein for them to jump off.

‘Ever been swimming in the ocean?’ Damen asked, joining Laurent downstairs, where he was attempting to get more sunscreen on his back. Damen took the bottle and gently started rubbing it in.

‘A few times,’ Laurent said, tipping his head forward for Damen to get his neck, too. ‘But not for a while.’

‘I’ll stick with you,’ Damen said, putting the bottle down and using both hands to make sure he hadn’t missed anywhere. ‘Hate for you to go floating off by yourself.’

‘So would I, believe me,’ Laurent muttered, dropping his shades on his bag and approaching the end of the boat.

Damen came up beside him and waited. ‘You good?’

‘I’m fine,’ Laurent said, curling his toes over the edge of the boat and looking down to the water.

‘Need to hold my hand?’ Damen asked, no hint of mocking in his voice. ‘We can jump in together.’

Laurent took Damen’s hand silently, big and warm, and a little sticky from the sunblock. He laced their fingers together, trying not to think about what this would inevitably be a metaphor for, and started counting down. ‘Three.’

Damen smiled. ‘Two.’

Laurent nodded once. ‘One.’

And they jumped.

They didn’t go too far under the water, because there wasn’t really much of a drop off, and Laurent instinctively let go of Damen’s hand to swim to the surface, looking around for the man himself, before an arm slid around his waist, and Damen’s voice was in his ear.

‘How was that?’

‘This…’ Laurent grinned, turning himself in Damen’s arm and treading water. ‘It’s good.’

‘Good?’

‘The water is nice, but every situation can be improved.’

Damen laughed and pressed his lips to Laurent’s wet shoulder. ‘Let’s see about that.’

Laurent played at being appropriately doe-eyed as Damen moved in slowly for a kiss, and brought one leg up, pretending to hitch it around Damen’s waist, instead hooking his toes in the band of Damen’s shorts and yanking them down, swimming away and laughing as Damen’s eyes flew open and he fumbled to pull them back up.

‘Laurent!’ Damen gasped, yanking his shorts back over his ass and catching up to him quickly, Laurent’s laughter hindering his ability to swim, somewhat. ‘That was impolite,’ Damen said, even as he grinned and scooped Laurent into the kiss he’d been going for.

‘I only said _I_ wasn’t skinny dipping,’ Laurent grinned, weaving his fingers into Damen’s wet hair and scrunching his nose for a moment when he remembered it was still mostly in this morning’s braid. ‘You’re fair game, though.’

‘Oh, am I?’ Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘It’s my civic duty.’

‘But it’s _my_ ass.’

‘We’ve all seen your ass, Damen!’ Nik said, from where he was sitting on the back of the boat, legs in the water, still close enough to hear their conversation. ‘It’s nothing special, sweetheart.’

‘You’re not special!’ Damen shot back.

‘What are you, twelve?’ Nik asked, kicking his leg and flicking water at Damen. ‘Dick.’

Damen released one arm from around Laurent and flipped Nik the bird. ‘Asshole!’

‘Yeah, love you, man!’

‘Love you, too!’

Laurent blinked, certain he’d missed something, but none of the others had reacted like this was even slightly out of the ordinary. Then again, they were mostly wrapped around their respective partners. Or just not paying attention to them.

‘What?’ Damen asked, seeing the look on Laurent’s face. ‘You okay?’

‘How long have you two been friends?’

‘Our parents were friends before we were born. We were pretty much raised together. Why?’

Laurent smiled a little and shook his head. ‘You just have your own little language, I guess. Like me and Auguste.’

‘Oh. Yeah. I think he knows me better than I do.’

‘I like him.’

‘I do, too.’

‘My brother likes him, too.’

‘Is your brother..?’

‘He likes to say he’s “mostly straight” but I’m pretty sure he’s lying, because the moment Nik left that day at Starbucks, it was like he hated to see him go but loved to watch him leave, you know?’

‘He was staring at his ass, you mean.’

‘Very much so.’

‘We could have a double wedding,’ Damen said thoughtfully. ‘Very economical.’

‘Auguste thinks that would steal their thunder.’

‘Actually,’ Damen nodded, ‘he could be right.’

‘But _our_ thunder, right?’ Laurent asked tentatively.

‘Of course, we’re prettier.’

‘I am, at least.’

‘You’re arguably much prettier than I am.’

‘Thank you.’

‘But I have a better ass.’

‘Just because everyone had seen yours doesn’t mean it’s better,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘My ass is a _luxury_.’

Damen hummed, sliding one hand slowly down Laurent’s back. ‘Again, I think you could be right.’

***

They spent another while in the water, eventually getting back on the boat to eat some food and blow up some inflatable things that _someone_ pulled out.

‘Oh, _dibs_ on that,’ Damen said, eyes lighting up at the yellow duck on the front of a box that Lazar was pulling from under the deck.

‘You can blow it up, then,’ Lazar said, dropping the box at his feet and going back to pull out something white, which he dropped at Pallas’ feet with a smile and a kiss to his boyfriend’s hand. ‘A swan for you, mon amour.’

Damen yanked the yellow vinyl out of the box and turned on the electric pump, watching with glee as it expanded, until the duck was taking up most of the room on the small back deck. Damen pulled a rope from _somewhere_ and tied it around the duck’s neck so it wouldn’t float off while they ate, and tossed the duck off the boat and into the water.

‘Are you having fun?’ Damen asked, joining Laurent inside where he’d gone to get more food. ‘I think the guys all like you.’

‘I like them,’ Laurent nodded. ‘They’re fun, especially Lazar.’

‘I can’t believe I didn’t know you were French.’

‘Seriously? Laurent? Auguste? My last name is de Vere. Nothing?’

‘Heritage and like, “my parents personally guillotined the last king” are two different things, babe.’

Laurent laughed. ‘How old do you think I _am_?’

Damen kissed his cheek, leaning past him to grab a sandwich. ‘Immortal.’

‘Well, I haven’t died yet, so you could be right.’

Damen sighed and looked seriously at Laurent. ‘And how long have you _been_ seventeen?’

‘A while,’ Laurent grinned, before his smile dropped a little, and his face turned more thoughtful. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ Damen said, grabbing a handful of grapes.

‘Will you answer honestly?’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘Probably.’

‘Good enough,’ Laurent looked down to his sandwich for a moment, picking at the corner of the bread. ‘Am I what you expected?’

Damen’s other eyebrow shot up. ‘What?’

‘I mean, do you think you made the right choice? Inviting me here? Speaking to me at all?’

‘Laurent,’ Damen said softly, ‘I’ve never made a better choice in my life.’

‘That’s true, you know,’ Nik said, coming up from below deck and emerging into the cabin. ‘He hasn’t.’

‘Nik, buddy, I love you, but this is a private conversation so please fuck off,’ Damen said, without turning to look at him.

Nik threw his hands up and grabbed a sandwich on his way past, reaching between them with an awkward little shuffle. ‘As you were, gents.’

‘To answer your other question,’ Damen said, eyeing Nik’s retreating back and apparently deciding it was too risky, before he sighed and took Laurent’s hand, pulling him to the other end of the boat. ‘No.’

‘No?’ Laurent repeated, slightly confused and still holding his sandwich, lifting it slowly to his mouth to take a bite. Nik had magic sandwich hands, it seemed.

‘No, you’re not what I expected.’

Laurent’s face fell, even after Damen’s recent words. ‘Oh, I –’

‘You’re better,’ Damen interrupted softly. ‘You’re smart, you’re funny, and you’re so ridiculously beautiful, I’m surprised I can form full sentences around you.’

Laurent pursed his lips to hide a smile. ‘Go on?’

‘See, I know you’re fishing for compliments here, but jokes on you, because I am more than happy to shower you with them.’

‘So?’ Laurent challenged.

Damen bit back a grin, ducking his head and looking back up from under his eyelashes. ‘Yesterday I was so flustered by the thought of you being into me that I hid in my kitchen. I tossed an eggshell into what I was supposed to be making, and had to keep looking away from you while I made pancakes because I wasn’t sure I could handle it.’

‘Oh?’

‘And last night when you turned up in my room, I had to catch my breath,’ Damen paused, letting out a sharp breath and relaxing his shoulders. ‘I was almost glad when you left the first time, because it gave me a moment to collect myself.’

Laurent felt like he should probably put his sandwich down, and set it on the table at his hip, carding his fingers through the loosened hair of Damen’s braid. ‘And?’

‘And when you came back, asking me if I _wanted_ you, it felt like the most obvious thing in the world,’ Damen murmured. ‘You looked nothing less than perfect, with your hair a mess, and your shirt too big and falling off your shoulder. I couldn’t – I _don’t_ believe that you’re real.’

‘I’m real,’ Laurent said quietly, removing his hand and running it down Damen’s neck, shoulder, to rest over his heart. ‘I thought you were catfishing me, you know.’

‘Oh?’

‘I almost swiped past you,’ Laurent admitted. ‘I only came back for the scenery.’

‘Are you glad you didn’t? Swipe past?’

Laurent nodded. ‘So much. Are you?’

Damen laughed lightly, moving his hand down to Laurent’s wrist, lacing their fingers together tightly, and bringing his hand up to kiss the back. ‘I don’t think you know how gone I am for you.’

Laurent’s voice was soft as he said, ‘Then tell me.’

‘I don’t want to say anything and jinx it,’ Damen said, shaking his head. ‘But if you were an ocean, I’d be so damn far over the horizon.’

‘I’m not sure that makes sense,’ Laurent said, ‘but I think I understand.’

‘Do you?’

‘If you were the ocean, I’d be digging through sand.’

Damen grinned and touched his forehead to Laurent’s. ‘God, I… Laurent.’

Laurent nodded. ‘Damen.’

***

Laurent moved his things into Damen’s room when they got back to the villa. There didn’t seem to be much point in making a mess of another room if Damen’s was already… lived in.

In the daylight, Laurent looked around, seeing everything he hadn’t last night or this morning.

Damen sat on his bed, cross-legged, and watched him, explaining the story behind something – this shell he’d found while he and Nik were diving in a little cave they hadn’t been able to find again since, that one he’d found on a beach the first time he and Nik had travelled by themselves.

Damen had quite a few shells. Some Laurent couldn’t tell the differences between, but Damen would stand and come over, running Laurent’s fingers over the dips in the surface and teach him how to tell which was which. Laurent nodded and put the shell back, and Damen would retreat to his bed, letting Laurent continue his investigation.

Damen also had a lot of photos, both in frames and just floating around behind the knick-knacks scattered across his shelves. Some had girls in them – many had a blonde woman, with sharp features but soft eyes, and Laurent lifted a photo of her to Damen, eyebrow raised.

‘An ex,’ Damen said, blushing. ‘We’re still friends, which is why they’re there, but… Well. Nik likes to say she broke me.’

‘Did she?’ Laurent asked, carefully tucking the photo back, continuing to browse but listening for an answer.

‘I think in a way she did,’ Damen said, and Laurent saw him shrug from the corner of his eye. ‘Jokaste didn’t want to settle with me, or maybe settle _for_ me, and I did hate her for a while because of it.’

‘What changed?’

‘We were young, I guess, or maybe I just loved her more than she liked me.’

Laurent hummed. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I wouldn’t have you, otherwise.’

‘Maybe I should thank her, then.’

‘You could. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.’

‘Wouldn’t that be a little weird?’

Damen sighed, flopping backwards onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. ‘Yeah, maybe.’

Laurent huffed and joined Damen on the bed, nudging their arms together. ‘What you were saying on the boat earlier…’

‘Yeah?’

‘I just wanted to say –’ Laurent stopped himself. He wasn’t usually like this. Something about Damen brought it out in him, though, and he fought every instinct telling himself to shut up. ‘You too.’

‘Me too, what?’

‘You’re the best decision I’ve ever made.’

‘See,’ Damen moved so he was on his stomach beside Laurent, and kissed his bare throat. ‘When you say stuff like that, it makes me want to cancel the plans I made to show you around.’

Laurent hummed, threading his fingers through Damen’s loose hair. ‘At this rate, I’m almost certain this won’t be my last time in Greece.’

‘But the first time is the most exciting,’ Damen said, resting his chin on Laurent’s chest. ‘Don’t get me wrong, if you want to stay in bed the next two weeks, I’m good with that, too.’

‘Don’t tempt me,’ Laurent said, resting one hand on Damen’s back and idly dragging his fingers in loops over the fabric of his shirt. ‘I need to take selfies in at least one historical place or Auguste will think we’ve just been fucking for two weeks.’

‘To be fair, he probably thinks that anyway.’

‘Probably.’ Laurent paused in his drawing and sat up, dislodging Damen with a small _oof_. ‘I should call him.’

‘If you want.’

Laurent grabbed his phone off the bedside table and quickly went through the motions to video call his brother.

Auguste picked up after only a few rings. ‘Hey!’ he greeted, as the video finally started, his grinning face appearing on Laurent’s phone. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Hi,’ Laurent smiled. ‘It’s good. Thought I’d check in, see how things are going on your end?’

‘You’ve been gone like two days, and we both know you don’t care and only want to share some gossip with me, right? How’s Damen? How’s _Nik_?’

‘Nik is good, Damen is –’

‘Here,’ Damen said, popping up from the bed beside Laurent’s elbow and looming into the picture. ‘Good to meet you, man.’

Auguste’s eyes widened for a moment at Damen’s sudden appearance. ‘Christ, you’re hot,’ he said, before clearing his throat loudly. ‘I mean, yeah, you too, dude. Taking care of my brother?’

‘Oh, I’m _definitely_ –’

‘Yes, he’s feeding me and showing me around,’ Laurent interrupted pointedly, shooting Damen a sharp look that had him laughing. ‘We went out on the boat today with some of Damen’s friends.’

‘Oh, fun. Make any new friends?’

‘I found another French guy,’ Laurent said, switching to his native tongue. _‘Damen gets very hot and bothered when I speak French around him.’_

Auguste laughed as Damen bit his lip and flopped backwards again out of frame. _‘So I see,’_ he replied in the same. _‘Have you fucked yet?’_

_‘I’m not telling you that.’_

_‘You have!’_ Auguste gasped. _‘You’re finally coming into your slut phase!’_

 _‘I am_ not _, it’s not like this is a new thing.’_

 _‘You’ve been there one night!’_ Auguste crowed. _‘And you’ve already fucked him! I’m so proud.’_

 _‘I wish you just didn’t speak sometimes,’_ Laurent groaned.

_‘What’s the verdict, though? Do you think you like him?’_

Laurent flicked his eyes to Damen beside him, and back to his brother. _‘I’ll let you guess.’_

_‘I think you more than like him.’_

_‘I think he more than likes me back.’_

Auguste smiled, dropping his head into his palm. _‘Then I am happy for you. You deserve someone like that in your life, Laurent.’_

Laurent gave a small nod that he knew Auguste would understand – _thank you, I’m glad I have him, too_ – and switched back to English. ‘We should probably go. I think Nik’s making dinner.’

‘Yeah, you caught me right at lunch,’ Auguste said, holding up a bowl of leaves. ‘Thank you.’

‘Any time.’

‘Call me in a few days, yeah? Unless you can grab me Nik’s number, in which case, call any time.’

‘Will do.’

‘And I expect selfies! Flood my Instagram timeline!’

‘I’ll try,’ Laurent laughed, saluting as he ended the call. He sat for a few moments, phone in hand, and thought back over Auguste’s words.

 _‘You know,’_ Damen started in barely accented French, _‘just because I might get flustered when you speak French doesn’t mean I don’t understand you.’_

Laurent froze, and didn’t even bother to fight the blood rushing to his cheeks. ‘You speak French?’

 _‘I speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart,’_ Damen grinned. ‘Didn’t Lazar mention that during one of your secret conversations?’

‘No?’ Laurent frowned. ‘And you haven’t heard me speak Greek.’

‘ _Can_ you speak Greek?’

‘Not really. But still.’

‘Lazar’s a sneaky man,’ Damen mused. ‘My family used to vacation in France a lot. I took it as an elective into first year of college.’

‘Oh my God,’ Laurent groaned. ‘So you understood all of that?’

‘Slut phase, huh?’

‘I’m going to kill myself.’

Damen laughed. ‘You don’t want to talk about the _other_ thing, do you?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

‘Okay,’ Damen sat up and pressed a kiss to Laurent’s shoulder. ‘Should I give Auguste Nik’s number?’

‘I feel like you should really ask Nik that.’

Damen hummed and rolled off the bed. ‘Yeah. Let’s go ask him.’

‘Yeah – wait, what?’

***

It was somewhere around the tenth night of Laurent’s trip that they finally had _the_ conversation. They’d spent much of the trip so far visiting places and museums Laurent had on his list, going on day trips where Damen would spend much of the car ride with his hand on Laurent’s knee – or thigh, after the first few times – and singing loudly to everything that came across the radio. Or whatever music he or Laurent had put on through the Bluetooth system.

They were taking multitudes of selfies, and when Laurent looked back through them each night as he picked a few to post on Instagram, he saw how he and Damen were looking at each other, or, if it was just one of them, how happy and relaxed they looked as the other took their photo.

Those looks were evolving. Laurent could see the small changes in himself, in Damen, even, and he knew Auguste was right when he said _you more than like him_.

Nik, too, was right, when he said all that time ago at Starbucks that two weeks wouldn’t be enough.

‘You okay?’ Damen asked, peering at Laurent over the top of his book. ‘You look like you’re thinking too hard.’

Laurent sighed and hit post on his latest batch of photos for Instagram and locked his phone, sliding it onto the bedside table next to him. ‘I’m leaving in a few days.’

He heard Damen put his book down softly and get off the chair he’d been in by the open balcony doors. ‘I know,’ he said, sitting down next to Laurent on the bed.

‘I don’t –’ Laurent let out a deep breath. When did he become this person with all these… feelings? ‘I don’t know if I want to go.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I do, I have things to get back to at home,’ Laurent paused. ‘And I don’t trust Auguste to have kept my plants alive in my apartment.’

Damen laughed quietly. ‘Are you afraid that this will drop off or something?’

‘I don’t… _think_ it will. I just don’t know if I want to be…’ Laurent trailed off, glancing up to Damen. ‘I’m not good at this.’

‘You don’t need to be, I understand.’

‘Do you?’

‘Two weeks was amazing, but if I don’t get back for another six weeks then it’ll feel like being in the desert with no water.’

‘Exactly.’

‘We’ll be fine,’ Damen said, taking Laurent’s hand and rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. ‘I promise.’

***

‘Let’s go out.’

Laurent looked up from his phone and frowned. ‘Out where?’

Damen smiled and shrugged. ‘I haven’t taken you on a date yet.’

‘You’ve taken me on plenty of dates.’

‘But I haven’t taken you for dinner yet.’

‘You don’t need to take me out.’

‘Are you saying no?’ Damen asked, obviously fighting not to look too disappointed.

‘No,’ Laurent stood up. ‘Where are we going?’

Damen’s face broke into a smile with obvious relief. ‘A friend of mine has a little restaurant, if you’re not opposed to something a bit… fancier.’

‘Definitely not,’ Laurent laughed, offering Damen a hand to pull him up. ‘When do you want to leave?’

‘I have reservations for six,’ Damen blushed. ‘I really don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d said no.’

Laurent pecked Damen’s cheek. ‘I wouldn’t have said no. I’ll use the spare room to get ready. See you in a bit.’

‘Okay,’ Damen said, watching Laurent go up the stairs, even as he realised he should probably follow.

He’d only made these plans this morning, calling Kashel to see if she had any room to squeeze them in, which, of course, she made some arrangements.

_(‘The table by the fire or by the window or in the courtyard?’ Kashel asked, her voice a little muffled like she had her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder. ‘The courtyard might be a little quieter?’_

_‘What’s more romantic?’ Damen asked, almost regretting the question, thinking she might tease him for it._

_‘I can make anything romantic,’ Kashel said, without a hint of teasing in her voice. ‘Do you want me to decide and make it nice for you?’_

_‘No rose petals,’ Damen said immediately, knowing exactly what she meant by that. ‘It’s still kind of new and I don’t want to scare him.’_

_‘Are you telling me you haven’t been your usual romantic self?’_

_‘I’ve been_ myself _if that’s what you’re asking.’_

_‘Rose petals won’t scare him. Six, you said?’_

_‘Any time after then.’_

_‘Six it is,’ Kashel said happily. ‘I’ve got this.’)_

Damen thought he’d left enough time by bringing up his suggestion of a date for just after four in the afternoon. He didn’t know how much time Laurent would need, but he would probably need that much time for a small existential crisis about his outfit. And probably also the idea that he was finally taking Laurent out.

On that thought, Damen rushed upstairs to start getting ready.

Laurent’s things were missing from Damen’s bathroom, and there was a small mess of clothes around his suitcase, like he’d dug something out from the bottom and not bothered to tidy up everything that fell out.

The thought made Damen smile, even if he couldn’t entirely place why.

He moved across to his wardrobe and browsed through his options, before heading into the shower. He sorted through possible combinations in his mind, as he washed himself to distract from the part of his brain yelling about how he was going on a proper date with Laurent.

Damen only dropped his soap about nine times.

Finally, with his towel around his waist and the clock ticking closer and closer to five, Damen stepped out of the bathroom and picked out his outfit. It wasn’t anything too special, just a white button down shirt and tidy jeans, but he had a feeling that Laurent was going to show him up, so he switched them out for a pair of slacks instead.

It was almost the time they should probably be leaving, so Damen quickly did his hair (or rather, he combed it), put on a sensible amount of cologne, and dressed.

The door to the room Laurent was in was still closed, so Damen wandered downstairs and waited.

It wasn’t too long before Damen heard Laurent calling for him from the top of the stairs, maybe only about five minutes, but it still had Damen scrambling to the entryway to meet him.

‘Down here!’ Damen called. ‘I’m waiting for you.’

‘You were fast,’ Laurent said, his voice drifting down, and his shoes making gentle taps as he came downstairs.

‘I was about an hour,’ Damen said, trailing off as Laurent came into view and he lost the ability to speak for a moment.

Laurent, too, was in a button down and slacks, but his shirt was a deep, navy blue bordering on black, that threw his colouring into sharp contrast. He’d done something with his hair, the front of one side twisted back away from his face and the other waving gently around his shoulders, with an earring of two long, sapphire drops dangling level with his jaw. They swayed as he moved, and had Damen mesmerised.

‘You ready to go?’ Laurent asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement

Damen bit his bottom lip and ran his eyes slowly over Laurent in response.

‘No,’ Laurent laughed. ‘You said you were taking me on a date. I want to go on a date.’

Damen might have whined, he wasn’t sure, but whatever noise of disappointment he made drew another soft laugh from Laurent, so he didn’t mind.

‘Do I need to drive, or are you going to be okay?’

‘I –’ Damen cleared his throat, as his voice came out a bit rougher than intended. ‘I’m good.’

‘Good.’

‘You look…’ Damen shut his eyes. God, he wasn’t going to make it. ‘You really…’

Laurent smiled and leaned up to kiss Damen’s cheek. ‘You too. Let’s go.’

***

Damen was sure he’d specifically said _no rose petals._ He was sure he’d said it.

And yet.

Kashel had really gone for it, sectioning off part of the small courtyard at the back of her restaurant for them, rose petals scattered across the cobblestones and a small centrepiece of a low fishbowl with floating candles and _more_ flowers in the water. The fairy lights strung overhead had always been there, but they definitely added to the vibe.

Laurent shot a slightly wary look at Damen as they sat, and he began investigating the heart shaped chocolates on the table. ‘Damen, why does this look like you’re proposing?’

‘I’m not, I promise,’ Damen said, frowning at Kashel as she left, giving him a thumbs up over Laurent’s shoulder. ‘I told her not to go… too far.’

‘This isn’t too far?’

‘I did tell her not to put any rose petals out,’ Damen sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, it’s…’ Laurent unwrapped a chocolate and popped it in his mouth. ‘These are really good, but it’s fine. I… _like_ romantic stuff.’

‘Even the rose petals?’

Laurent shrugged by way of response and picked up a menu. ‘Any suggestions?’

‘Everything. Have you had moussaka yet?’

‘I think you made it last week.’

‘Kashel’s is better.’

‘Perfect,’ Laurent slapped the menu shut and put it back down. ‘Problem solved.’

‘Well,’ Damen said, not even bothering to look at the menu, and instead watching Laurent across the table. ‘One problem solved.’

‘Out of how many?’

Damen flicked his eyes over Laurent and hummed thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know. How many items of clothing are you wearing?’

Laurent raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you want me to answer that?’

‘Not right now, but I’d like to count later.’

‘You’re very smooth tonight, Damen.’

‘Smooth is my middle name.’

‘No, it’s not,’ Kashel interrupted, appearing at their table. ‘It’s Theomedes.’

Damen turned slowly to look at her. ‘Great timing, as always.’

‘You never stop flirting. There’s never a good time. Decided what you want?’

‘My usual,’ Damen said, looking to Laurent. ‘You said the moussaka, right?’

‘Right,’ Laurent nodded.

‘Great, I’ll have that for you soon,’ Kashel said, as she grabbed their menus and disappeared.

‘I like her,’ Laurent said. ‘How do you know each other?’

‘Our parents are friends,’ Damen said, blushing a little when he added, ‘we _very_ briefly dated.’

‘Oh?’

‘We were about fifteen. It lasted like a week before we decided to be just friends.’

‘A week?’

‘Yeah. One kiss,’ Damen laughed awkwardly. ‘It was… weird.’

‘Her loss, my gain,’ Laurent winked. ‘So was your plan for tonight to take me here and flirt?’

‘I had a very nice end to the evening in mind,’ Damen said. ‘If you’re game.’

Laurent made a noncommittal noise and pushed his falling sleeves back up past his elbows. ‘We’ll see how well you woo me.’

***

The evening progressed exactly as Laurent had thought it would. From the moment he came downstairs, he could see the hunger in Damen’s eyes, and he knew where they would end up.

He was right, and he was glad Nik had apparently decided to go out with Lazar and Pallas tonight – or maybe Damen had gently kicked him out for the night, but either way, Nik was not there, and Damen had Laurent pressed against the wall, barely inside the front door.

‘Careful of the earring,’ Laurent murmured, even as he dragged Damen closer by the front of his shirt and tilted his head to allow Damen better access as he moved his lips down his throat. ‘Upstairs.’

Damen hummed and moved back to Laurent’s mouth, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. ‘Yeah.’

Laurent gasped in surprise as Damen’s hands moved swiftly down past his hips and under his thighs, lifting and carrying him up the steps. He wrapped his legs around Damen’s waist and took advantage of the brief reprieve to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

They must’ve reached Damen’s room without Laurent realising, because he was dropped suddenly onto the soft sheets and mattress of the bed, and Damen was hovering over him, hair curling around his face. ‘Hey,’ he said.

Laurent laughed, reaching up in a pointless gesture of tucking Damen’s hair behind his ear. ‘Hey.’

‘You’re – this is okay, right?’

Laurent’s smile grew fond as he nodded. He knew what Damen meant by that – they hadn’t had… _a repeat_ of Laurent’s first night here, even if they had spent a lot of time in bed being intimate and doing _things_ , they hadn’t done _that_ since. ‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘This is okay.’

‘Good.’

‘Are you going to kiss me now, or what?’

‘What,’ Damen said, giving Laurent that same look of desire, before he leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on his collarbone, working at the buttons of his shirt with one hand, the other still tight around his thigh.

Laurent hummed and wound his fingers in Damen’s hair as he moved his mouth down his chest, uncovering his skin slowly, carefully, like he wasn’t sure if Laurent would bolt. Maybe it was because last time, he’d let Laurent control their speed, to direct him, and now Damen was the one dictating things.

He’d reached Laurent’s belt now, and glanced up as he made short work of the buckle, pressing a kiss to the inside of Laurent’s thigh as he helpfully lifted his hips for Damen to remove his pants. They’d somehow lost their shoes on the way up here, and it made for a smooth action to pull them completely off.

Damen ran his hands gently up Laurent’s skin, eyes running over his body with his intentions clear. One hand he slid under Laurent’s back and used it to flip him onto his stomach.

Laurent gasped – he seemed to be getting surprised by Damen a lot tonight – and clenched his fingers into the sheets as Damen plastered himself along his back, the fabric of his clothes brushing against Laurent’s bare skin, nearly from head to toe.

He’d lost his shirt, somehow.

Damen was still fully clothed, and Laurent arched his back, chasing some kind of sensation as Damen’s hand found his chest, his fingers running delicately across his nipples, stomach, down to his thigh, and back up, holding Laurent tight against his front.

‘Damen,’ Laurent sighed, as Damen rubbed the hard line of his cock against his ass, ‘don’t tease me.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because this isn’t an endurance race.’

Damen laughed, resting his head against Laurent’s shoulder, but still moving his hips slowly. ‘One day, I’ll have you in my bed the whole day.’

‘Okay, but today is not that day,’ Laurent pushed back against him, drawing a low noise from Damen’s throat.

‘Maybe not,’ Damen conceded, pulling back from Laurent and bringing his hands down his sides, hooking his fingers in his boxers and dragging them down to mid-thigh.

‘Damen –’ Laurent said, his words cutting off as he felt Damen’s tongue against his hole. He dug his fingers further into the sheets as he lost himself in the feeling, revelling in each change of pressure or movement, each gentle touch somewhere else on his bare body from Damen’s wandering hands.

Laurent whined when Damen’s tongue disappeared, even though he had no idea how long he’d been at it – it felt like moments, but he’d long since lost track of time. He heard the click of a bottle, and wondered if he was so out of it just from this that he’d developed selective hearing.

He lost track again when Damen pressed one slick finger inside him, moving it in and out, adding another, then another, and deciding it was time to move.

Damen removed his fingers and bit Laurent’s ass, and there was the rustle of clothing, the movement of the mattress as Damen stood, and a quiet, ‘Flip.’

Laurent rolled obediently to his back, using his new position to rid himself of his boxer briefs from around his knees, and spread his legs for Damen to settle between them. He pulled his lip in between his teeth as Damen manoeuvred himself, the head of his cock bumping against his rim.

‘You good?’ Damen murmured. ‘I can –’

‘I’m good,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘If you take any longer I might –’

He was cut off by Damen pushing in slowly, pausing for a moment as they both adjusted to the feeling, before he continued until he was fully sheathed.

Damen groaned, his hips moving infinitesimally inside Laurent. ‘Fuck,’ he muttered.

‘If you would,’ Laurent said, the snark a little bit ruined by a whimper as Damen pulled out a little and pushed back in again.

After a moment more of adjusting, Damen finally, _finally_ , began to move, murmuring words of encouragement and praise to Laurent, even though he was doing nothing but taking it.

‘Damen,’ Laurent breathed, clawing at his shoulders and digging his heels into the small of his back. ‘More.’

‘If I go faster, I’m gonna come,’ Damen said, laughing a little and kissing Laurent’s jaw.

‘We have the whole night,’ Laurent reminded him.

Damen laughed breathily and picked up the pace. ‘Small mercies.’

Laurent moaned softly, and shifted slightly, the angle making Damen hit new spots as he canted his hips up. ‘Oh,’ he sighed, holding him tighter and closer, eyes shut as he let himself just _feel_.

Damen let out a small grunt, his movements losing finesse as he pushed one hand between them to close his fingers around Laurent, pulling him towards the finishing line so they could cross together.

‘ _Damen_ ,’ Laurent moaned, as he came over his hand.

‘Fuck, Laurent,’ Damen said, biting Laurent’s shoulder and following him over the edge. Damen’s hips stilled and he collapsed, only just remembering to roll to the side of Laurent as he pulled out and stared up at the ceiling as they caught their breath.

Laurent looked over to see the happy, content smile on Damen’s face, and it hit him just how much he more than liked him. God, he wished Nik hadn’t been right. Two weeks wasn’t enough.

‘That was…’ Damen trailed off. ‘Yeah.’

Laurent laughed and rolled onto his front. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

Laurent pressed his lips to Damen’s shoulder, his neck, making his way up to give him a lingering kiss. ‘It’s going to be a long six weeks.’

‘We should make the most of the next few days then, I guess.’

Laurent hummed and pushed himself up to straddle Damen’s hips. ‘I’ll do the work this time.’

‘You’re going to kill me,’ Damen mumbled, even as he grinned and ran his hands up Laurent’s thighs. ‘Give me a minute at least.’

‘Fine,’ Laurent said, ducking down to give Damen another kiss, even as he started rolling his hips a little. ‘One minute.’

***

It was closer to dawn when they finally went to bed to _sleep_. Laurent was still awake, his mind running through all the possibilities of how he could lose this very good thing from his life, when Damen spoke. Laurent, apparently, was so still when he thought that Damen just thought he was asleep.

Laurent might not know _much_ Greek, but he knew what those words meant.

And maybe he didn’t know what to think about them, but he still drifted easily into a dreamless sleep.

***

‘Morning,’ Damen greeted, a small smile on his face as Laurent came into the kitchen that grew bigger when he realised he was in one of his shirts. ‘Sleep well?’

‘I think you know the answer to that,’ Laurent yawned, coming around the kitchen island to tuck himself under Damen’s arm, eyeing up the fresh plate of bacon and eggs he had. ‘Any for me?’

Damen nodded to the stove, to the pan with another serving of food waiting in it. ‘I was going to bring it up to you.’

Laurent sighed longingly and slid from Damen’s side to the pan. ‘How much would you judge me for eating it straight from here?’

Damen just handed him a fork in response.

Laurent grinned and dug in, the pair of them eating in silence, except the occasional hum of happiness. He didn’t know whether to mention what Damen had said earler, or to just ignore it.

Damen obviously hadn’t intended for him to hear it, or he wouldn’t have waited until he thought Laurent was asleep to say it – but at the same time, he was sure it wasn’t something that just slipped out.

So Laurent found himself at a crossroads for what to do. He could bring it up and ruin everything, or he could ignore it. Somehow that felt like the better option.

Then again.

‘You know,’ Laurent said, hopping onto the bench as Damen started sorting his dishes into the washer. ‘I do speak a _little_ Greek.’

Damen nodded, closing the door and stepping between Laurent’s swinging legs. ‘Is that right?’

‘It is,’ Laurent said, raising an eyebrow and watching Damen’s face, as the slightly terrifying thought popped into his head that maybe he’d imagined last night. Oh God, maybe he had? He’d been well and truly fucked beyond rational thinking, so was it possible he’d misheard Damen? Or that he hadn’t said anything at all?

Laurent was glad he’d been blessed with more of a poker face than Damen, because the moment something occurred to him, his features shifted, brow furrowing as he continued looking into Laurent’s eyes, and – ‘Oh.’

‘Did I imagine –’ Laurent cut himself off and placed his hand on Damen’s shoulders, hoping it reassured him and said whatever he was struggling to. ‘Did you…’

‘You weren’t sleeping,’ Damen said, lowering his eyes and drumming his fingers on the benchtop either side of Laurent’s thighs. ‘I thought… I don’t want – I _didn’t_ want –’

‘To say it while I was conscious?’ Laurent filled in. ‘To scare me?’

‘It’s too soon,’ Damen shook his head. ‘Nik’s always telling me I go too hard, too fast, and I didn’t want to rush things and screw them up.’

Laurent nodded. ‘I’m not going to make you say it if you don’t want to,’ he said, rubbing his thumbs over Damen’s collarbones, ‘but you can if you want.’

Damen took a deep breath, shaking his head again as he exhaled. ‘I can’t do that, not – not when you’re about to leave.’

‘Okay,’ Laurent leaned forward and pecked his cheek. ‘That’s okay. Shower time.’

Damen took a step back so he could slide off the bench and nodded. ‘I’ve got plans for today, so don’t be long.’

Laurent made a thoughtful noise and held his hand out. ‘Come with me?’

‘Oh,’ Damen smiled and took his hand. ‘That works.’

***

Damen hadn’t said it again.

It was the night before Laurent was set to leave, and he was upstairs packing all his stuff, ready to head to the airport in the morning, while Damen and Nik stayed downstairs in the garden.

This was Nik’s idea, of course, saying he had something private to discuss with Damen, but, as Nik was wont to do, it turned out to be an ambush.

‘What’s up?’ Nik said, as they plopped onto the grass, staring out at the stretch of water, and the moon’s reflection in the rippling surface. ‘Something happened.’

‘How do you know something happened?’ Damen asked, crossing his legs and picking at the blades on the ground in front of him.

‘Because I can read you like a book, Damen, and you’ve been sending him these weird looks when you think he can’t see you.’

‘I –’ Damen sighed loudly and tossed his handful of grass at Nik. ‘It was an accident.’

‘What was?’

‘I…’

Nik groaned. ‘Jesus, Damen. There’s just no filter between your brain and your mouth, is there?’

‘Actually, I thought very long and hard about it, but I thought he was asleep when I said it,’ he paused. ‘Also I said it in Greek. I thought he didn’t speak Greek.’

‘I’m guessing he does?’

‘Enough, it seems.’

‘Is he being weird about it?’ Nik asked after a moment. ‘Or is it _just_ you?’

‘He didn’t have a problem with it, and he hasn’t been weird, so maybe it is just me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘About what?’

‘What you said.’

‘Are you going to be mad at me if I say yes?’

Nik nudged him with his elbow and though he didn’t see it, Damen was sure he rolled his eyes. ‘No. Because I think you do, too. The question is whether he feels the same.’

‘I don’t know if he does,’ Damen said honestly. ‘Maybe he’s just being nice about it because he feels obliged because he’s staying here and, I don’t know, maybe I’m just really good at –’

‘Okay,’ Nik interrupted. ‘Maybe, but does that line up with the Laurent you know?’

‘Maybe he’s just a good actor.’

‘Damen.’

Damen glanced sideways at Nik and shook his head slowly. ‘No.’

‘So, do you think he feels the same?’

‘I want to,’ Damen said, ‘but I’d rather wait for his feelings to catch up than to make him say something he doesn’t mean.’

***

‘I’ve had fun,’ Laurent said quietly. The room was dark, quiet except for the sound of waves outside, and he was sure Damen was still awake, judging by his hand moving up and down his side. ‘I’ll miss you until you get home.’

As suspected, Damen was awake, and he hummed, shifting a little to rest his chin on Laurent’s head. ‘I’ll be counting down the days until I’m back.’

Laurent sighed and nestled himself closer to Damen, tightening his arm over his waist. ‘Thank you for inviting me here.’

‘Thank you for trusting me.’

Laurent smiled, and while he couldn’t bring himself to say it, his brain was screaming a response – _Always._

***

Damen woke up to an empty bed, and to Laurent’s suitcase gone from the room. He frowned and wandered downstairs to find no trace of him anywhere in the entryway or kitchen either. ‘Where’s Laurent?’

Nik looked up from the piece of toast he was smothering in peanut butter. ‘I already dropped him to the airport,’ he said, nodding to a piece of paper propped up in the fruit bowl. ‘Sorry, dude.’

‘Wait, he’s gone?’

Nik shrugged. ‘Just read the letter.’

Damen pursed his lips and took the neatly folded paper, staring at the delicate hand in which his name was written. He flicked his eyes up to Nik, who was watching him closely, and decided to instead go outside to read it, dropping himself into a lounger as he weighed up the pros and cons of reading it.

Cons first. Mostly, cons. Laurent could’ve broken up with him. Could’ve decided he changed his mind, and that this was all a waste of time. That he didn’t want to see Damen anymore. That hurt him most to think about.

Pros. There really weren’t any.

‘Have you read it yet?’ Nik asked, standing in the door to the deck, arms folded over his chest.

Damen shook his head. ‘Nope.’

‘Are you going to?’

‘Don’t know if I should.’

‘You probably should,’ Nik said gently. ‘Like a band-aid. Rip it off. Do it fast.’

Damen chewed on his lip, flicking the edge of the paper under his thumb. ‘Fuck, fine.’

 

> _Damen,_
> 
> _Forgive me. I’m sorry I’m not there. I just didn’t want to make it harder for either of us to have to say goodbye, and this seemed… easier._
> 
> _I’ll see you when you get back, and hopefully considerably more often ~~, because I think I.~~_
> 
> _~~I want~~ _
> 
> _~~I think I’m~~ _
> 
> _~~Fuck this is going badly.~~ _
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> _-L._

 

‘Nik,’ Damen said, his voice a little helpless as he held out the piece of paper. ‘He –’

‘I know,’ Nik nodded. ‘If it helps, he was staring out the window the entire way to the airport, and I’m pretty sure he was crying.’

‘Oh my God,’ Damen looked back down to the paper and read the words again, so delicately written. ‘Nik, I – you have Auguste’s number, right?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘Give me your phone.’

Nik narrowed his eyes but pulled it from his pocket to hand it over, following Damen as he went inside.

Damen searched through Nik’s contacts – why he had them arranged by _last name_ , Damen would never understand – and hit dial on Auguste’s name.

‘At first,’ Auguste’s voice came crackling through the speaker of Nik’s phone because – _shit_ – he’d accidentally FaceTimed him, ‘I was going to ignore this call, so you’re lucky you’re hot. What’s up?’

‘I – wait, what?’

‘Gorgeous Nikandros, you’re –’ Auguste stopped as he finally opened his eyes to see Damen staring in horror at the screen, ‘…not Nikandros, hey, Damen.’

Damen looked over the top of the phone to Nik, who shrugged and pointed at the phone meaningfully. ‘Moving on!’ Damen said, too loud. ‘I need your help.’

Auguste turned a light on beside his bed and sat up, getting a hair tie from somewhere to put his hair up. ‘What can I do?’

***

‘Welcome home,’ Auguste said, folding Laurent into his arms as he came through the crowd around his arrivals gate. ‘How was it?’

Laurent bit his lip and, after a moment, shook his head. ‘I don’t…’

‘Yeah,’ Auguste sighed, as they started walking to the exit. ‘Nik told me.’

‘You’ve been talking to Nik?’

‘You did get me his number. We chat. He’s nice, he’s hot, and he tells me things you apparently won’t.’

‘Like?’

‘You wrote him a letter.’

‘Oh,’ Laurent said quietly. ‘Yeah, I did that.’

‘And you had Nik drop you off early, while you spent the entire drive staring out the window and crying.’

‘I wasn’t _crying_.’

‘You haven’t cried in years.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Laurent, you –’

 _‘No,’_ Laurent interrupted, switching to French and speaking rapidly. _‘I don’t want to talk about how I may or may not have cried on the way to the airport, and I don’t want to talk about how I had to leave or I would’ve stayed, and I don’t want to talk about not saying goodbye to Damen, and I definitely don’t want to talk about what I wrote in that letter.’_

Auguste raised his eyebrows at Laurent’s outburst. _‘Okay,’_ he said. _‘We don’t have to talk about it.’_

_‘Thank you.’_

They were quiet the rest of the way to the car, and only after pulling out of the carpark, did Laurent speak again.

‘He said it first, you know.’

‘What?’

‘He said it first,’ Laurent repeated, turning away from his window to pull his phone from his bag. No notifications. ‘He thought I was asleep, and he said it in Greek.’

‘Is this you wanting to talk about it?’ Auguste asked carefully.

‘No.’

‘Okay.’

***

Laurent still hadn’t heard from Damen. He’d sent him a message to let him know he’d arrived home safely, but it hadn’t been opened. He sent him a snapchat to prove his plants had survived Auguste’s care, but it hadn’t been opened, either.

He’d fucked everything up.

He should never have left like that. Should never have gone to Greece and ruined it for himself. Should never have allowed Damen to worm his way into his life, and should’ve just swiped left like he’d intended. Laurent had put himself on the line for – what – for _this?_ For heartbreak? To be used and discarded like this after something he thought was real?

Damen didn’t strike him as a particularly good actor, but maybe he was so good, he’d fooled Laurent into thinking he was bad, and he didn’t mean anything he’d said or did.

Maybe it was time to start getting over him. Laurent could do that.

He decided to stop wallowing. He’d been home for over a day, and he needed to restock his kitchen with food. All he had was a can of soup, and Laurent didn’t even _like_ stupid tomato soup. He wanted some damn vegetables. And a tub of ice cream to eat while he sat in the bath.

So, he grabbed his keys, and he left his apartment.

No one bothered him at the supermarket, most giving him a wide berth as he stared into the freezers, trying in vain to decide between two flavours before he gave up and tossed them both in his cart. He wasn’t even going to bother trying to deny at least one would be gone by the end of the night.

He knew, ultimately, that what he and Damen had shared was nice. It had been fun, and he’d seen Greece with someone he cared about, and had great photos for it. He’d made a couple of new friends – still very much in touch with Lazar and Pallas, but they said they hadn’t heard from Damen either, though Lazar looked guiltily to Pallas as he said so – and he’d had a genuinely good time.

He didn’t care if that was it, if Damen didn’t want to talk anymore. Maybe it was just another hook up for him, a fling. A summer romance.

Laurent went back and got a third tub of ice cream.

He packed everything into his reusable bags, because he wasn’t in enough of a mood to forgo them for shitty supermarket bags that would break on the way up to his apartment, and carted it inside, only putting away the cold items before he grabbed one of the rubs and went to wallow in his bath.

He remembered he’d bought wine, as well.

Maybe he should have wine.

He wasn’t really a wine person, but this felt like a suitable occasion to temporarily become one.

So, instead, he started running his bath and put away his groceries while he waited and poured himself some wine.

He waited until he’d dropped in a bath bomb – an expensive, citrus scented one he’d picked up while he was out – before he slid into the water and started sipping his drink. It was still terrible, and he still felt like shit.

And Auguste, naturally, picked that moment to call him.

‘What do you want?’ Laurent asked, not even bothering to hold his phone in a way that his brother could see him.

‘Wow, you’re in a mood,’ Auguste said in lieu of a greeting. ‘Are you in the bath right now?’

‘Yep.’

‘Are you – what are you doing?’

‘Drinking wine.’

‘You hate wine.’

‘Yep, and Damen apparently hates me, so it fits,’ Laurent said bitterly.

‘He doesn’t hate you,’ Auguste said, rolling his eyes, judging by his tone.

‘How the fuck would you know?’

‘He asked me to tell you he sent you something.’

Laurent stopped sipping his wine and tilted his phone down to narrow his eyes at Auguste. ‘Sent me what?’

‘I don’t know, but he said it arrived like, five minutes ago. The delivery person knocked but you didn’t answer, so it’s just sitting there.’

Laurent sighed and put his glass on the floor, pushing himself from the bath with one hand and pulling on his bathrobe from behind the door, just in case any of his neighbours were in the hall. ‘You don’t know what it is?’ he asked, as he made his way to the front door, sliding the lock across.

‘Nope.’

‘Better fucking be good,’ he muttered, hauling open the door and – ‘Fuck.’

‘I’m gonna go,’ Auguste said, hanging up without waiting for a response.

‘Hi,’ Damen said softly, holding the bouquet of brightly coloured gerberas to his side.

Laurent blinked at him and then to the flowers. ‘What the fuck, Damen?’

‘I know.’

‘You haven’t opened any of my messages since I got back, and now you’re at my _fucking apartment?_ ’

‘Yes,’ Damen blushed, having the decency to at least look sheepish. ‘I know.’

‘How – what – _how_ do you know where I live?’

‘Auguste told me. Please, let me explain,’ Damen said, glancing to the flowers. ‘Please.’

‘You have thirty seconds to tell me what the fuck is going on,’ Laurent said, crossing his arms. ‘You hurt me, and now you’ve just turned up.’

‘I didn’t open your messages because I was on a plane,’ Damen said gently. ‘And then I knew once I got here and read them, you would know I was here because I can’t keep a secret to save myself. I’m a terrible liar, and I wanted to surprise you.’

Laurent lost a little of his fire because, yeah, that was a good point. ‘Okay, but why _are_ you here?’

‘Do you forgive me?’

‘For that?’ Laurent sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. ‘Yes. Sorry. I’ve been…’

‘Wallowing? Auguste said you might be.’

‘I’m going to kill him,’ Laurent muttered under his breath. ‘But why are you here early, Damen? You’re not meant to be back for weeks.’

‘I’m here,’ Damen said, ‘because you said you loved me and didn’t give me a chance to respond.’

‘Technically, I didn’t say it.’

‘I know,’ Damen said. ‘Technically, I did.’

Laurent sighed and rubbed at his eyes. ‘Did you come all this way to discuss technicalities, Damen?’

‘No,’ Damen smiled softly, ‘I came all this way to say, knowing you are both awake and listening to me, that I love you.’

Laurent’s eyes widened in shock. He had been on a complete emotional rollercoaster the last couple days, and while he knew Damen had _technically_ said it before, he knew he felt the same way, and he knew Damen wasn’t lying, his natural response was to slam his door in Damen’s face.

There was a soft knock on Laurent’s door as he turned and pushed his back against it. ‘Laurent?’ Damen asked. ‘You okay in there, babe?’

Laurent bit his lip and opened the door again as quickly as he’d closed it. ‘It’s not a competition, you know.’

‘What?’

‘You beat me to saying it _twice_ now, Damen.’

‘You beat me to writing it.’

‘I need to win at something,’ Laurent crossed his arms over his chest again, in part to tug his slipping robe back over his naked body. ‘Je t’aime.’

Damen laughed. ‘You don’t sound very happy about that.’

Laurent’s slightly pissed off expression melted, and he stepped forward, cradling Damen’s face and going on his toes to whisper, much kinder, gentler, _‘Je t’aime, mon coeur.’_

Damen’s free hand wound around his waist, as he murmured, ‘Do you want to say it in English?’

‘Don’t push your luck,’ Laurent muttered, kissing under Damen’s ear before he said, ‘I love you.’

‘Good,’ Damen replied, turning to capture Laurent’s lips with his own. ‘I would have to have wasted my ten dollars on these flowers.’

‘We should put them in water, then.’

‘We should,’ Damen agreed, following Laurent as he tugged him into his apartment.

The goal had been to put the gerberas in water, and eventually, they did that – but not until after they re-emerged from Laurent’s bedroom a few hours later.

***

‘This is nice,’ Auguste said, yawning and leaning back against Nik’s arm. ‘Relaxing and such. Nice view up here.’

Laurent threw a grape at him, hitting him in the side of the head. ‘I told you. Greece is nice.’

Auguste hummed and picked up the grape from where it had fallen between Nik’s knees. ‘You don’t need to try to charm me into liking it. I’m having fun as I am.’

‘That’s only because Nik convinced you to come.’

‘Nik _constantly_ convinces me to come,’ Auguste shrugged. ‘Not that I need much convincing.’

‘Gross.’

‘You know what else is gross? Hearing you and your boyfriend going at it from across the hall all night.’

Laurent cleared his throat and held up his hand pointedly. ‘Pardon.’

‘Sorry, you and your _fiancé_ are gross,’ Auguste said, rolling his eyes.

He was happy for them, truly. He’d never seen Laurent as happy as he was with Damen, and the past year, it was like he’d – for lack of a better word – he’d _blossomed_. He’d truly come into himself with Damen, and was so… relaxed. Though that could’ve been the almost excessive amount of sex they had.

But as he watched Damen bend down from the wheel of the boat to eat a grape from Laurent’s outstretched hand, kissing his fingertips before he went back to steering them through the clear waters, he couldn’t help but smile at the obvious love on both their faces.

He’d always thought dating apps were just for hook ups. Quick fucks and shady meetings where someone went home forgetting the name of the other person, but maybe – just maybe – it could be used for love.

Or, maybe, Laurent and Damen were just meant to be, and all it had taken was a little tinder to get them started.

**Author's Note:**

> with this done, i'm going on hiatus for a bit! i need to focus on uni (responsible, i know) but i'll be coming back to write again, and in the meantime, you can catch me on [tumblr](http://damiaanos.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/daamiaanos)!


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